Redemption
by phoenixnz
Summary: Jane is forced to rescue Oliver when he lands in serious trouble. Can these two find redemption in each other?
1. Chapter 1

Oliver stood on the stage, his feet on the metal plate, staring down at the prompter.

"I'm a thief," he admitted, reading from the prompter, but feeling the painful truth of those words. "And a liar."

Murderer, it prompted.

But at that, the Toyman was wrong. At least, when it came to the crime the Toyman had accused him of. Oliver had blown up the van, yes. But Lex Luthor had been nowhere near it. What had blown up in that truck had been nothing more than a clone. And not a live one, at that.

He avoided the eyes of the shocked onlookers.

I am all of these things, he whispered in his head. Maybe he hadn't murdered anyone. But he was a murderer. He'd failed Jimmy. Caused his death. And he'd failed ... her.

He pictured in the back of his mind that fateful night. The night he'd been drinking heavily, stumbling in the street. Part of him had still been Green Arrow, although he'd left that life behind a long time ago. But when he'd heard the cry for help, he hadn't been able to look away.

Trouble was, he'd got his ass handed to him by three guys, at least ten years his junior, and a lot more sober. They'd beaten him to the ground, then proceeded to rape and cut the throat of the young girl. She'd been maybe fifteen or sixteen, her eyes pleading with him as he lay there, bleeding, ribs cracked, feeling helpless. He'd watched as the light died, wondering how he could have been so stupid. She was dead when he came to a few minutes later, and he'd picked himself up, stumbling away.

Jane would have laughed at him, he thought. Called him all kinds of a fool. And she'd be right. He'd heard from her brother that Jane had been working for the Onyssius Foundation. She'd gone out in the world to help people.

Part of him was proud of her. She'd taken what she'd learned, the mistakes she'd made, and worked to better herself. The other part of him was still angry at her for not trusting in him. For keeping secrets from him. For using him. For moving on.

There was another side of him that thought she was better off without him anyway. Because he was toxic to everything he touched. That was his gift. Lousy relationships. He'd driven Lois away. Destroyed his friendship with Clark because he was jealous of his friend's happiness. He hadn't even gone to the wedding when Clark and Lois got married. And why? Because he was a useless spoiled rich jerk, he told himself. He didn't deserve what he'd been handed. Didn't deserve this life.

So now he stood on the metal plate. Half an inch of steel away from blowing himself up. For the Toyman had him literally standing on a ticking bomb. If he stepped off the plate, it would explode. Oliver wanted it to explode.

He was barely aware of Clark, no, Superman, he thought, seeing the blue and red costume, ushering people out of the club. He stood there on the pressure plate, waiting. Waiting for the moment of oblivion.

He was glad Jane wasn't here to see this. Glad she wouldn't get to see how low he'd sunk.

It was the moment of truth, he thought, as Superman managed to get everyone out. He sucked in a cleansing breath, and puffed it out as a weightlifter would do right before lifting a heavy weight. Then he stepped off.

Nothing.

At first, Oliver felt relief. Then anger at Toyman for stealing his moment. For taking that chance away from him to find oblivion. To find peace in that final, awful explosion that he'd expected.

"How did you know the plate wasn't real?" Clark asked when he finally came back in.

Oliver stared at him, shock registering in his eyes. It had been fake? Toyman had lived up to his name. Toying with him. "I didn't," he answered.

The awful truth dawned in Clark's eyes as he looked his friend over. He knew then that Oliver had wanted to kill himself.

It was a little while later that Oliver stood outside on the balcony of the Ace of Clubs, scotch in his hand. He just held the glass. He had been drunk before, but now he was stone cold sober. He kept looking at the street below, ignoring the drink. Worthless, he thought. He was worthless, useless.

"I'm sorry," Clark said.

Oliver just kept staring into space as Clark told him how sorry he was that he hadn't seen what was right in front of him, hadn't seen the signs, hadn't tried to help. How he could have, should have, would have ... Oliver fought the urge to roll his eyes. Why did Clark always think this was about him? Like he was the one who had caused all this. Didn't he get it? It wasn't Clark. It was him. He, Oliver, was an ass who didn't make all the right choices.

"With all due respect, Superman, I'm not worth your time."

It was a defence mechanism. Referring to his best friend as Superman instead of his real name was a way of shutting him out.

"Oliver ..."

He finally turned and glared at the big blue boy scout. "Don't you get it?" he yelled. "Just fuck off and leave me alone. I'm ... not ... worth ... it! I never was!"

"That's the drink talking."

Oliver shook his head. "No it's not. I'm stone cold sober. Amazing what a brush with death will do to you."

Clark winced. He had been there, come very close to the edge of death himself, and Oliver blamed himself for that too. He should have been able to stop it. Stop Lex from nearly torturing Clark to death. Instead, it had been the Pretender . Jarod.

Green Arrow had played his part, but it had been a cameo role. When Jane had returned to take down Luthor for good, Green Arrow had once again been useless. Impotent. He'd ended up nearly getting himself killed.

"Superman."

Oliver turned and looked at Jarod. He'd come to a small town in Mexico to find Oliver and make him return to Metropolis. To address his shareholders.

Oliver had been drinking, flirting with these two women, both married to whatever passed for the big honchos in this town. Then their husbands had come in and Oliver had started a fight.

Just as the lead honcho was about to clean his clock, picking up a bottle of Tequila to smash over his head, Jarod had appeared.

"Aww, such a waste of good Tequila," he'd grinned. He'd been holding a semi-automatic, pointing it at the two honchos. He'd been dressed in his custom leather jacket, looking so cool and casual next to Oliver, who just looked drunk. The two honchos looked like they were going to test the waters, but Jarod just shrugged in that calm way he had and they thought better of it.

Oliver poured himself another shot of Tequila and sculled it back.

"Jarod," he said, belching noisily.

Jarod approached the bar, his face a cold mask.

"Oliver."

It was fairly clear by the older man's expression that he wasn't particularly impressed with Oliver's behaviour or his attitude.

The Pretender had given him time to sober up, dumping an ice pack in his hands, while he got rid of the bartender and any other stragglers eager for some action. Oliver had gone upstairs to the bathroom, then come back down to find Jarod watching through the partially open door. Oliver ignored him and went looking for more to drink, pulling another bottle of Tequila out of the fridge.

"What the hell were you thinking, Oliver?" Jarod said finally. "They could have killed you."

Oliver pressed the ice pack to a cut over his eye. He didn't care. As far as he was concerned they could have and it wouldn't have mattered.

Jarod knew then that the younger man was not out looking for kicks. He had a death wish. But there were more important things at stake. Winslow Schott had blown up one of Queen Industries' factories and Oliver didn't seem to give a damn. About anything.

Oliver continued drinking, grunting, ignoring the lecture. Jarod tried to get him to at least feel something, even resorting to telling him his company was failing. He would have thought the younger man would have at least cared about his family's legacy, but Oliver just rolled his eyes.

"There's only so much more loss your shareholders will be willing to accept. Your people are tired of making excuses."

Oliver turned and grinned at the older man. Who was he to lecture him on his company?

"Well, why don't you tell them to stop making excuses? Tell them the truth about me." He shrugged. "I don't care anymore."

Jarod just continued watching him in that cool way of his. "I've heard of you going off the rails before. But this ... this vanishing act, these binges ... you're punishing yourself."

Congratulations, Oliver thought. All those years in The Centre, and this is what you've learned?

"And I know why. You blame yourself for what happened to Jimmy Olsen. You blame yourself for what happened to Clark. You even think it's your fault that Jane did what she did."

For a moment, Jarod thought the younger man was about to cry. He seemed to freeze, then sniffed and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. He glared at Jarod.

"I drove her away," Oliver said, leaning against the bar and taking another jolt of Tequila. Jarod pulled the bottle away and sat next to him.

"Jane made her own mistakes. She knows that. But she doesn't sit around wallowing in self-pity."

"Well, congratulations," Oliver smirked.

"You're coming back to Metropolis with me and you will address your shareholders. And then we are going to talk about what is happening with you."

"No, we won't. I told you, I don't care."

"Fine," Jarod said. "But you'll come back anyway, if I have to drag you there myself."

Oliver had looked at the older man. His handsome face was cold. Oliver got the sense that Jarod really didn't like him right now. That was fine with him. He'd had enough of this bullshit anyway.

Just a day later and he'd come close to losing it all anyway. He looked at Jarod, who was dividing his attention between Oliver and Clark. He wondered what the older man was thinking.

"Superman, I can take it from here," Jarod told Clark. Clark nodded and took off. Jarod looked at Oliver steadily.

"Oliver, you need help."

But Oliver had been prepared for this, and there was no way he was going to let someone like Jarod tell him how to live his life.

"No, what I need is for you to stay out of my face," he said. "I can handle things just fine."

"You just admitted you wanted to kill yourself, Oliver. You have a strange definition of fine."

"This is not your concern."

Jarod nodded. "Well, if you're determined to seek oblivion, then I won't stop you. But I won't allow you to take your company down with you." He nodded to someone behind him and Oliver stared as Bruce Wayne and Lucius Fox came in.

"I believe you know Bruce Wayne," Jarod said. "His CEO, Mr Fox, has some ideas about how to save this company from ruin."

"Yeah?"

Jarod nodded. "So, we're going to bring in some of my people to manage the company until you come to your senses. Or drink yourself to death. Whatever comes first. I know when to back off, Oliver. And I know when someone doesn't want to be helped. But I can still do what's necessary to help those you employ."

Jarod turned away from him then and looked at Bruce.

"I doubt whether you'll have better luck. But I suggest you freeze his funds and put him on an allowance until he sobers up."

Fox nodded. "I agree."

An allowance? What was he, five? Oliver blanched at that.

Damn it, he thought. This was all Jane's fault. If she hadn't done what she did, none of this would have happened. Deep down, he knew it was irrational to blame her. But the shallow part of him didn't care. She'd moved on. How could she move on and leave him like this?

Jarod looked at him and knew what Oliver was thinking and he knew that Oliver had been partly right. Jane hadn't thought about the consequences of her actions, and what she would leave behind. The crux of the matter was that Oliver wasn't dealing with it. He was using alcohol to deal with his pain. Whereas Jane had actually gone out to learn what she had done wrong and work to make up for those mistakes. She had dealt with her pain; most of it.

He knew Oliver had fallen hard for Jane. His sister, too, had loved the blonde billionaire. Although she had had no idea what it was. Having spent all her life in The Centre, Jane hadn't learned a lot about her own emotions. Jarod knew what it was like to have such strong feelings for someone. After all, he had fallen for his wife when they had both been kids, although they had fought it for years, each caught in their own traps.

Fate had a way of stepping in when something was right, he thought. It was only a matter of time before something brought these two back together.


	2. Chapter 2

SIX MONTHS LATER

Jane sighed. One week into her well-earned vacation and she'd been summoned. To Metropolis, of all places. She knew Jarod had been doing some consulting work with Queen Industries at that city's branch, but she couldn't figure why he'd ask her to come to Metropolis.

With another heavy sigh, she walked in to the lobby and waved her id card at the guard. All Onyssius Foundation top level employees had their own security passes to the former Luthorcorp Plaza since Jarod began working with Bruce Wayne and Lucius Fox to save the company Oliver Queen had taken over.

Oliver. That name sent a small twinge of pain through her. It had been a year since she'd taken down Lex Luthor, and she'd lost Oliver in the process. She knew she'd made mistakes, but since then, she'd heard Oliver had gone steadily downhill. He'd started drinking, taking drugs like Speed and generally making a mess of his own life, while she had done the opposite.

Despite meeting other men and sleeping with them, she hadn't been able to forget the blonde billionaire. Well, former billionaire. He'd been put on a small allowance, and his funds frozen, just so they could control his spending, even if they couldn't control him. But somehow he'd managed to get hold of enough booze and drugs to make himself worthless.

Tapping her foot impatiently on the floor of the elevator, Jane reflected on the past year. She'd gone out to help people. Like Nick Stokes. He was a sweet guy. The CSI had been dealing with his own pain when they'd worked together on a case involving a 14 year old girl who had been beaten. Eight months pregnant, the girl had died in childbirth, but the case had reawakened something in Nick and he was more determined than ever to use his work to help others.

Then there'd been Dean Winchester. Her first lover since Oliver. They'd known each other only a week and met chasing ghosts. And a property developer who was trying to force a woman out of the only home she'd ever known. Together, her and Dean, as well as his brother Sam, had given the developer a taste of his own medicine. Jane grinned at that. Dean had loved the idea of setting up a 'haunting' of their own making. Damn, but he'd been a great lover, but she hadn't loved him.

The second guy had been Mike. Who was in love with his boss/colleague. Jane chuckled to herself. The two of them had never really sorted that one out, she thought. Mike and Sarah. She'd liked them both, even if she had been a bit of a bitch. Mike had been hot, and he was great in bed. There again, he hadn't loved her and she hadn't loved him.

Mike had saved her life, but ended up getting shot for it, when they'd both turned up to try to help a man in witness protection. That had ended up a total disaster, but they had eventually learned by working together with Mike's car, KITT, a technologically advanced mobile artificial intelligence, capable of learning with great speed, and hacking computers faster than even Jane, that a crooked DEA agent had been behind the whole thing.

Only recently, Jane had been in the Middle East, helping to rescue a photo-journalist, Sam Macgyver, who had protested he was quite capable of rescuing himself. But it had come close to being an international incident, and Jane had got shot for her efforts. She'd almost died and she realised it was time to take stock of her life and figure out what she wanted. Hence the vacation.

As she opened the double doors into Oliver Queen's former office, she couldn't help but notice that neither Jarod nor Lucius Fox had done anything to change the decor. For a moment, she studied the warm tones that Oliver had preferred. She recalled an evening when they had been alone in this office.

_He'd been kissing her on the leather couch. God, he was such a great kisser. Lois would have disagreed with that, but then, she was married to Superman!_

_Jane squirmed in his arms. His hands were on her butt, giving each cheek a thorough massage. It wasn't so much the massage that made her squirm, but how close his fingers got to another part of her anatomy. One that was burning with need right now. So close and yet so far. God, she wanted him to stop playing with her and give her what she needed._

_But Oliver just grinned, pulling her closer so she was practically sitting in his lap, grinding his erection against her. Jane moaned at the all too brief contact._

_"Oliver, don't tease," she complained._

_"Aww, poor baby. She doesn't like being teased."_

_"Oliver if you don't stop that I'm going to have to do something drastic," she told him sternly._

_"Like what, baby?" He continued stroking, pulling her down to him, teasing her with his hardness._

_"Like this," she said, slipping her hand down between them and undoing the fly on his dress pants. "Now you better finish what you started mister," she added as his erection sprang free._

_With a grin, Oliver obliged. He thrust his tongue in her mouth, sucking on her own tongue, while Jane took his member in her hand, stroking, her grip firm, eliciting a moan from him. _

_Good thing I wore a short skirt, Jane thought as Oliver's hand slipped beneath her skirt._

_"Ollie!" she said._

_"Sorry, baby," he whispered. "Almost forgot."_

_Picking her up in his arms, he carried her to the desk, reaching into the drawer for his hidden stash. Continuing to stoke the fire within, he sat her on the top, his hand beneath her skirt while he opened the wrapper with his teeth and rolled on the condom one-handed. Jane moaned as his finger shifted her panties aside, stroking her sex. Gasping, she stared up at him, wide-eyed as he moved between her thighs, and the hem of her skirt hitched up to her waist, then entered her in one thrust._

_Already so close to the edge from his teasing, it wasn't long before Jane was shuddering._

Jane shook herself out of her reverie, and looked at her brother, who stood looking out the window at the street below.

"Jarod." Jane greeted her older brother with a frown. "Just what is so damned important that I had to cut short my vacation. My sorely needed vacation," she said, putting emphasis on the 'sorely needed'.

Jarod smiled tightly. "Sorry sis, but I really needed you on this one."

"To go where this time?"

"Colombia," a voice behind her said.

Jane turned and looked at Clark. He was in Superman costume. Anyone else, she thought, would look ridiculous in the tight blue costume with the red and yellow crest on the front, red boots and a long, flowing red cape, but the uniform only emphasised his bulk. Somehow he'd managed to bulk up in the long months since she'd seen him. He'd also done something with his image, making it seem sharper somehow, more chiselled. Or maybe that was a trick of the light. Because suddenly it made his eyes seem a very intense blue.

Apart from a few minutes in the hospital in LA, she hadn't seen Clark since just before he and Lois had got married. He'd stopped off in California and by chance, or luck, Jane had been there on a short stopover to debrief on her latest job. She and Clark had managed to have a long talk about the events of that January and they had parted on good terms.

She'd wanted to go to the wedding. She had really wanted to be there to support her friend, and Lois. It had been about two weeks before Oliver had tried to kill himself, from what she'd heard. She'd been in Ireland then, attending a conference, and hadn't heard about it until she'd got back. She'd known too, that if she had gone to the wedding, Oliver might have been there and it would have caused a scene.

Jane went to her friend and hugged him, reminded again of how much strength he had to hold back. She thought for a moment about the difficulties he must have had growing up. She sympathised. They were both different, in their own way – each having their own unique gifts. And both of them had been used in different ways.

"How's Lois?" she asked.

"Feeling pregnant." Clark grinned.

Lois was five months pregnant and really feeling it. She'd had a lot of morning sickness her first trimester.

"Did she try the herbal remedies I sent her?"

"Yeah, they worked great. Thanks."

"Good."

Jane studied him. "So, I'm guessing there can be only one reason why you're here. You're about to ask me a humungous favour. Something the Justice League can't get involved in. So how much trouble is he in?"

Clark sighed and tried to avoid her steely gaze, but Jane was having none of it.

"We believe he's been kidnapped," Clark said.

"Funny, I would have thought he'd be arrested, not kidnapped."

"Well, the law in this particular area of Colombia apparently turn a blind eye to illegal activity. A lot of them even have side jobs working for the bigger landowners."

"AKA drug barons," Jane finished. "So a drug baron has got him. Why us?"

"As much as the authorities here want to get involved, they can't," Jarod told her.

"Neither can the League," Clark told her. "We've already tried to convince Batman, but it will cause international attention of the kind we can't afford."

"He's an American citizen," Jane told him.

"And you've got corrupt law enforcement who don't give a damn about Americans or their laws."

"And we think Intergang might be involved."

Them again. Jane sighed. She had hoped she'd put a stop to this when she'd taken down Luthor, and Bruno Mannheim. It looked like Intergang was alive and kicking.

"So what do you want me to do?"

"The DEA have asked us to do some information gathering. So go down, scope it out. Do whatever you have to do. But your primary reason is Oliver. His shareholders are getting nervous. And if he doesn't make an appearance, clean and sober in six weeks, the company will go under."

So it really was up to her, Jane thought. This was going to be just great!


	3. Chapter 3

Clark returned home that night after patrolling. Lois was already in bed, reading.

"Hey honey," she said absently. She'd been doing that a lot lately. Clark put that down to the pregnancy.

He had been surprised to find that it had happened so quickly. One moment they were married, the next expecting a baby. At first, Lois had not been that happy about it. After all, she was trying to focus on her career, but Perry had sat her down and talked with her about that saying that family was important. He should know. He had lost his own family because of his dedication to the job. Now he was estranged from his two sons and had been divorced for ten years.

Plus, he'd offered Lois freelance work while on maternity leave, but that was something she didn't have to worry about for at least three more months.

Clark quickly showered and put on pyjama pants, getting into bed next to his wife, who had put her book down and was snuggling down under the covers herself. He lay next to her, his hand on her stomach.

"How was patrol?" she asked.

"Same as usual. Stopped a couple of muggings." He chuckled. "There was this guy using suction cups to try and climb up Metropolis Tower."

"Something wrong with the elevator?" Clark had quipped. He was standing not two feet away from the man, who had looked up, startled to see the man in blue. With a scream, he fell from his precarious perch. "Was it something I said?" Clark added, just as he flew down to catch the man before he hit the pavement. The man's eyes rolled in the back of his head and he fainted. Clark shrugged. "Well, that's new."

Lois giggled at that. "Well, honey, you do inspire ..."

"What?"

"Well, not fear, exactly, but a healthy dose of, umm, respect isn't the word either." She sighed. "My brain's on the fritz again."

"It's not you. It's the hormones. Jor-El explained that, remember?"

"He also said that's why they gave up on letting their women go through with pregnancies and used the birthing matrix instead. Although I really think your people were just shallow that way."

"What are you saying?" he said, stroking her belly, feeling the baby respond to the added stimulus.

"Oh come on, Clark. You're gorgeous. I mean, how many people on Earth do you know who look as perfect as you?"

"Well, you for one," he said, planting a kiss on her belly.

"Flattery will get you nowhere Smallville," she told him.

"Can I help it if I'm biased because I'm in love with the most gorgeous woman in the world? Who happens to be pregnant with my child? And by the way, I really love your pregnant belly. I don't care if other people don't like it. I love it. It's what makes it real."

"Makes what real?"

"Well, remember how I used to worry that I would never be a Dad? You know, because I thought we'd never be compatible? Well, this proves that Jane was right, doesn't it?"

"Speaking of Jane ..."

"She sends her love. She told me she was going to try to call you some time next week. Before she goes to South America."

"So she agreed to do it, then?"

Clark nodded. "She's not happy about it. You know she told me she still has feelings for him."

"I know she does."

"Yeah, how do you know? Has she said something?"

"Well, not in so many words. But she's been careful about not saying his name for the last few months. Not even mentioning him."

"But doesn't that mean ..."

"No, honey. I guess no matter how close we are, you'll never really understand women, will you? The fact that she doesn't even say his name shows she obviously still has feelings for him."

"Oh." Clark sighed and shook his head. Lois was right. He would never really understand Jane or what motivated her.

He remembered the first time they'd met. It was back on the farm in Smallville. Jane – that hadn't been her name then, had pretended to be broken down on the road. Next thing he knew, she'd pulled out a tazer with Kryptonite-laced shockers.

Jane had kidnapped him and taken him to Blue Cove, Delaware, where she had been sent six months earlier. The organisation she worked for, The Centre, had been forced to declare bankruptcy after Jane's brother, Jarod, had siphoned all of their funds. Lex Luthor had taken over The Centre to use for his own research into Kryptonite mutations. And he wanted Clark's abilities to heal injuries he'd received while trapped in ice in the Arctic.

Both Jarod and Jane were Pretenders – people with the brains and abilities to become anyone they wanted to be. They both had eidetic memories, but that wasn't all that made them what they were. They seemed to have an uncanny ability to read minds, or to read what other people were thinking, purely by close observation. They had been trained to read body language and all sorts of behavioural characteristics.

It had been a complicated story, and even now he had trouble getting his head around it. But he remembered clearly his role in helping Jane to change. Before his kidnapping, when Jane had captured him for Lex, Jane had been nothing but a number. Clark had given her her name, and that had somehow begun the rebellion in her mind, giving her the chance to fight against everything she had been taught.

Just over fifteen months ago, Jane had returned to Metropolis after she had learned that Lex had an inside man at Luthorcorp and he was working to get himself free from the mental institution where he had been placed. Somehow, he managed to get a transfer to another facility and there began his plan to recapture Clark.

Jane had fallen hard for Oliver Queen, although Clark sometimes wondered if she really knew what love was. After all, she had spent all her life in a sort of institution. Subjected to harsh treatment. She'd had nothing to compare it to.

So when she'd hatched a plan to take down Lex for good, she hadn't told Oliver. Knowing full well that none of them could just sit back and do nothing, Jane had planned for every contingency, but still hadn't informed them,and Oliver had believed that Jane had betrayed them. Even when he'd learned the truth, he had felt used and humiliated.

Clark had thought Oliver would be okay, but it was not long after that that he began drinking heavily. In an effort to forget Jane, he had begun flirting with other women, partying until all hours, becoming the kind of spoiled rich kid he'd once been notorious for.

Jane, on the other hand, had begun working for her brother, going out into the world to help people. Shortly before he and Lois had got married, Clark had had to go to California, summoned by the governor who needed his help with some fires which had broken out in the hills. Hearing Clark was in the area, Jarod had invited him for supper. Jane had been home – a short stopover before she headed off on another job.

_"Hello Clark. Or I guess it's Superman now."_

_Clark looked around at Jane, who stood in the doorway of the kitchen._

_"Clark's fine," he said._

_He was wiping the dishes – the normal way, having offered while the older couple relaxed. He'd changed into his civilian clothes, but the twins had loved his uniform, giggling over it._

_Jane moved further in, going to the refrigerator and taking the juice out, pouring herself a glass. Clark watched as she stood there, drinking._

_"You weren't here for dinner," he said, then rolled his eyes at the inanity of the remark._

_"No, I had to finish a report at the Foundation. Grabbed dinner out."_

_"So it wasn't because you were avoiding me?"_

_Jane's brown eyes studied him. "No," she said truthfully. "I'm not avoiding you. I actually hoped to catch you before you left. I wanted to apologise for what happened in Metropolis. I know now that I went about things the wrong way. I should have told you what I was doing." She sighed, heaving her shoulders. "I made a very bad decision and I know there's nothing I can do to make up for that. But I'm hoping that we can at least start again and be friends."_

_"I'd like that," he said with a smile. He understood, having had a long talk with Jarod. The older Pretender had once told him that Jane's mind didn't work like others. Having been kept a prisoner for all her life, she had no humanity of her own. But from the way she looked and behaved now, the way guilt clouded her eyes, Clark realised she had learned a few things._

_They sat at the kitchen table talking about everything that had been happening in their lives since then. He told her about his upcoming wedding to Lois and she told him about what she had been doing. She'd just come back from San Francisco, having been there to take down a property developer who was bullying house owners into selling. She clearly loved what she was doing._

Lois gave a heavy sigh. "I just hope she can get to Oliver before things get really bad."

"What makes you think things aren't bad now? He's been kidnapped by a drug lord, or god knows what they're doing to him."

"Yeah, but Ollie's always been able to take care of himself. I don't know, I mean, the last few months he's been out of control, but he hasn't hurt anyone but himself."

"That's not really true, is it, though honey? He's hurt you."

Lois had tried to confront Oliver. Bring him to his senses. She'd dated him once, had even imagined herself in love with him, and she'd thought that she might have got through to him, but he'd turned on her, insulted her and refused to listen to anything she had to say. She had come home upset and wondering why she was crying. It hadn't been long after that they'd learned that Lois was pregnant.

Lois rolled over so her back was facing Clark, and snuggled closer into her husband's arms. He pulled her closer into him, kissing her shoulder, then her neck, licking the smooth skin until she squirmed.

"Smallville!"

"Something wrong babe?"

He continued kissing along her shoulder blade, then pulled her hair aside to kiss the back of her neck. She moaned gently as he slipped the shoestring off her shoulder, moving his hand around to cup her exposed breast, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger. Lois gave a soft sigh.

"God yes," she muttered.

Clark pressed himself closer to her, letting her feel him in the cleft of her butt cheeks. Automatically, Lois moved her legs apart to give him access. Clark quickly slipped out of the pyjama pants. He moved his hand down between her legs, fingering the curls, seeking. Lois' hand reached behind her, closing around his shaft and he shuddered at the contact.

"Lois," he moaned.

"Clark," she returned huskily. "Oh god."

Lois moved against him, her body giving a clear signal that she wanted more. Clark let her guide him to her and he moved his hand away, slowly entering her from behind. While she wasn't that big, yet, they'd quickly found that this was a comfortable position for her and Clark didn't mind. Her comfort was just as important as their satisfaction.

Lifting her leg to manoeuvre himself deeper inside her, Clark began to thrust in earnest. His mind flashed back to earlier times, before he and Lois had got married. He'd been so afraid of his own power, so afraid of hurting her, but Lois had been so patient. She'd let him dictate his own pace and they'd experimented with other things first before the main event. It had taken a while to build his confidence, just as it had with flying, but before long, Clark had wondered what he was worried about.

He could hear Lois' breathing change and knew she was close. He sped up the pace, knowing that would drive her over the edge. Sure enough, her muscles gripped him as if in a vice and he was coming hard, just as she cried out his name.

Panting, Lois rolled over as he slipped out of her and wound her arms around his neck.

"Love you Smallville," she whispered as her breathing slowed and she yawned sleepily. He kissed her forehead, brushing the hair, damp from perspiration, aside.

"Love you too," he whispered back as she settled with her head on his chest. He could hear her heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm. There was a second heartbeat – fainter, but just as steady.

"'Night Lois. 'Night baby." He moved his hand down to her belly and rested it there, feeling the baby kick once and he smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

Jane sighed as she stood watching the activity on the grounds. For days she had been coming to this compound, observing the activities. She'd managed to find a little spot, just close enough to the main buildings, where she could observe without fear of discovery, but so far there had been no sign of a blonde head. He would stand out; a pale face in a sea of brown faces.

Part of her was annoyed at having to risk her own neck for this. As far as she was concerned, Oliver was behaving like a spoiled brat. He'd slept with god knew how many women, exposing himself to god only knew what diseases, and for what? To hurt her? Well congratulations, she would love to say to his face. It worked. Damn him for doing this to her. Maybe she had made mistakes, but this – this was deliberate.

She sighed again. She hadn't wanted it to come to this, but she didn't see any choice. He was in there, somewhere, and she wasn't going to find him by perching in a tree. She needed a closer look. There was only one way to get it.

"Listen, Santelli, my people are very interested in your operation. They expect me to see it. All of it."

Jane looked at the olive-skinned man. He was about the same height as her, with greasy black hair and an equally greasy moustache. He was revolting to look at, but the way he looked at her made her think he believed himself to be god's gift.

His gaze shifted over her and Jane fought against fidgeting. Control, she told herself, remembering the lessons from her brother in those early days when she'd just left The Centre. He'd taught her to control her emotions. Disgust was just another one of those.

She'd told Santelli she was working for Intergang, scouting out potential suppliers for the drug operation in Metropolis. Clark had helped her with that, using one of his own contacts to set up the cover. A man who worked for Intergang but was an informant for the Daily Planet.  
Keeping up the cover, she'd contacted Santelli, telling him she needed to see the operation for herself. Dressed in a severe business suit, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, she would be unrecognisable.

The only trouble was, even dressed the way she was, she was still beautiful and she attracted attention where ever she went. The men working out on the grounds stopped what they were doing and watched as she walked past. She knew many of them hadn't been with a woman in weeks, months even.

There were at least twenty of them doing exercises. Jane took the opportunity to observe, calculating the odds if she ever had to fight her way out but she was careful not to give anything away in her body language.

Santelli, Carlos Santelli, appeared to be just like any other rich landowner. He was nothing more than a common drug dealer as far as she was concerned.

He'd been sceptical of her role at first, until her contact had assured him that women did take a more active role in Intergang these days. It was a bald-faced lie. The men in Intergang had even less respect for women than Santelli did.

She asked to see the building where the drugs were mixed. Santelli refused, saying such a beautiful woman did not need to risk herself. Yet, she thought with disgust, he had no problem with exposing his workers to such risk. They worked with a lot of dangerous chemicals. Many of them were children, some even as young as ten. She would be glad when a pig like Santelli would be taken down for good. No one should treat a child that way.

She demanded to see the entire operation, threatening to speak to her superiors about how unco-operative he was being. Santelli didn't want to miss out on potentially millions of dollars in income, or did he?

"As you wish," he said. He snapped his fingers and two men came forward. "Show Miss Smith the operation," Santelli ordered. "Answer any questions she has."

Jane followed the two men to the building. As they led her inside, she took another quick glance outside. So far, she'd seen nothing, but that didn't mean anything. Sighing, she continued inside the building which housed the manufacturing plant.

Jane used her time wisely, observing as much about the operation as she could. She spent two days just observing, noticing that Santelli was one of the few landowners in Colombia to actually have access to a computer network. He kept a lot of his records online. It didn't take much to break through his firewalls – the system might have been top of the line in Colombia, but it was primitive by her own standards.

She saw a locked area of the compound and asked one of the men escorting her in Spanish, or at least the local dialect of it.

"That is where the indentured workers live," the man explained.

"Indentured?" It sounded a lot like slavery. Something Jane knew a lot about, having spent almost all her life in The Centre, working for them as a Pretender. They'd basically kept her as a slave, using negative reinforcement to make sure she did what she was told. They'd beaten her humanity out of her, but they couldn't beat it out of her entirely. In the last year, she had succeeded in gaining that humanity.

She knew if Oliver was going to be anywhere, it would be there, but she wasn't about to break into a locked compound without getting some idea of what she was facing. As she walked the grounds, pretending to make notes on her Blackberry, she found a way to slip unnoticed to the main bunker where the guards watched surveillance cameras. She patched into the security feed, using transmitters she herself had designed and put together.

Glancing around, making sure she was still unobserved, she continued walking through the grounds, pretending to work busily on her Blackberry, checking the transmitters were working.

She left, promising Santelli she would be in touch about his operation, and headed for a small cabin two kilometres from the compound. Opening up her laptop, she activated the feed once more and sat back, watching the surveillance. She knew, sooner or later, she'd see what she needed.

XXXXX

Oliver Queen stood behind the chain-link fence, his brown eyes watching the activity in the compound. He'd kept himself out of sight deliberately as soon as he'd seen her arrive. Bitch! he thought. The workers here had been whispering about the American woman who had come down to observe the operation. If there was one thing many of them hated, it was American capitalism.

Of course, that didn't stretch to American television. Before they'd been forced to work for Santelli, they had often watched American soaps on ancient televisions, thinking they were a true representation of American life.

He knew what life was like down here for them. Harsh conditions, extreme poverty. Many of them had fallen into debt so badly that Santelli had been their only hope. They had sold either themselves or their children into slavery, hoping to work their way out of it. Most knew they would never leave.

Oliver briefly pondered Jane's appearance. He'd known the instant she passed by that it was her. Part of him knew it was no coincidence, her being here. Jarod must have sent her. Bastard!

This had been partly Jarod's fault. If he hadn't suggested freezing Oliver's funds, he wouldn't have got into this mess. He'd come down here to check out one of his old business partners from college. They'd had a little operation going, selling cannabis, among other things, to fellow students. Of course, that had been before Oliver had decided to party on his parents' yacht and ended up being shipwrecked. But now his friend had got himself a little plantation here in Colombia, where the law turned a blind eye to drug operations.

Oliver had thought he could make some extra money, since he'd been put on limited funds. The trouble was, when he'd got here, he found his old friend was dead and his plantation razed to the ground. Santelli had decided he was the only game in town and anyone who tried to argue was dealt with swiftly.

So Oliver had decided to hole up at a local drinking establishment. There had been a young girl there. Couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen. And she was cosying up to any man who had spare change, offering to sleep with them. Oliver had bought her a drink and asked her what she was doing and why she was doing it. It turned out her father owed money to Santelli and in exchange, he had sold his daughter to the drug lord. She'd been forced into prostitution to repay her father's debt and buy back her freedom.

Oliver had considered that. He might think himself worthless right now, but he was damned if he was going to sit back and let some girl be abused like this. So he'd walked up to Santelli's men, refusing to leave until he'd talked to Santelli.

The drug lord had looked at him derisively when he'd tried to buy back the girl's freedom. He figured he would worry about the funds later. There was no way he was going to beg Jarod for help. Santelli had laughed in his face, but then he'd challenged Oliver to a game of poker. If Oliver won, he could buy back the girl's freedom and leave Colombia with the girl and his balls intact. If he lost, Santelli would own him and the girl.

He'd lost. Badly. He was sure Santelli had cheated, but there was nothing he could do. He'd been here a month, with no way to get a message to the outside world. Clearly, someone had, he thought. Because now Jane was here.

"Hey, gringo, get away from that fence."

Oliver turned, glaring at the guard who'd spoken. Fuck you, he thought, but the glare earned him a whack from whatever passed for the guard's baton. It seemed they loved pushing the big, tough American around.

Fighting against the grip on the back of his neck as the guard manhandled him inside the ramshackle building that passed for the bunkhouse, Oliver sighed. He'd taken quite a few beatings in the month he'd been stuck in this shithole.

As he sat down to eat the tasteless muck that passed for food in this dump, he noticed one of the young boys watching him. He couldn't be more than ten or eleven, and he had a large bruise on his face. His plate was empty but Oliver could tell the boy was starving. He was incredibly thin. Without thought for his own hunger cramping his stomach, he pushed the plate over and the boy's face lit up in a smile.

Oliver's action didn't go unnoticed by the guard, who dragged the boy up and began whipping him. Oliver stood up, grabbing the man's hand and glaring at him. The two men stared at each other, both daring the other to move.

"Pick on someone your own size," Oliver growled in their language.

From behind him, a guard whacked him across the back, opening up wounds still fresh from his last beating and he screamed in pain, but he still refused to let go until they beat him senseless.

XXXXX

Jane watched the screen, her stomach churning in horror as she saw the beating he took. Why had he done it? she thought. Back bleeding from open wounds, she continued to watch helplessly as he was dragged away. She had to get him out of there. And soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Jane dressed in the dark red leather. It was a similar design to that of Green Arrow, but there wasn't an arrow in sight. But as she checked her reflection in the mirror, she chuckled to herself. Oliver, at least the old Oliver, would have been laughing his head off to see her in this get-up. God knew, she wasn't doing this for kicks. She didn't want Santelli knowing it was her.

She lifted the hood over her head, and put the dark glasses on. Like Oliver's, they were equipped with night-vision. She'd also come up with a new design of voice modulator, one that would disguise her voice so completely that anyone she came across wouldn't know if she was a man or a woman. Jane was tall enough to pass for a man, and she'd strapped her breasts down to disguise her appearance. It was extremely uncomfortable, but a small price to pay for anonymity, she thought.

She sighed. Since when had rescuing Oliver meant channelling him? Of all the 'pretends' she'd done in the past year, she'd never thought she'd be pretending to be Green Arrow, or at least his counterpart.

Jane drove in the nondescript car she'd bought for this. Unlike her favourite Mustang, this was the only car available in this part of South America. But it was okay, she decided. She didn't want them identifying her and using a car that was fairly common in these parts was another way to hide her identity.

Parking just by the wall of the small encampment where the workers were housed, Jane grabbed her equipment, including the gas-fired grappling hook. She rappelled over the wall and into the compound, switching on the remote which gave her control over the surveillance systems.

Taking out a small gun, Jane made sure the safety was off. This was another of her own designs. It shot gas pellets which would quickly knock out her opponent. It was faster and more effective than hand-to-hand, although it would only hold two pellets. She knew that two guards were posted inside the locked compound at all times, but for ten minutes after midnight, the guards did a changeover. They obviously assumed that nothing would happen.

Jane bent down, pulling out her small lock-picking kit and unlocked the main door. Opening it, she moved quickly into the bunkhouse. Oliver would be on the second floor of the house. Keeping her strides fast and even, Jane ignored any looks from any of the people who woke. As much as she wanted to help them, she didn't have any choice right now. There was no time for it.

Two young men got up and challenged her on the floor.

"Qué es usted haciendo aquí? (What are you doing here?)," one asked.

"Dónde está el norteamericano? (Where is the American?)" she answered.

"Qué desea usted con él? (What do you want with him?)"

"Ninguno de su negocio que jode. Ahora muéstreme o salga de mi manera. (None of your fucking business. Now get out of my way)."

She pushed past them and continued her search, finding him lying face down, barely conscious, on one of the bunks. Part of her felt sick as she saw the wounds on his back. He'd been whipped. He moaned and stirred, staring at her.

"Wha...?"

"Be quiet," she ordered in the same language. "Get up and don't do anything stupid." She was careful to keep her tone harsh, hoping the people present would believe there was no connection whatsoever between her and Oliver. She had a feeling though, that he had realised it was her.

With difficulty, groaning in pain, Oliver got up as ordered. He pulled on a shirt and pants, wincing as the filthy cotton shirt came into contact with the oozing wounds on his back. Jane grabbed his arm and made it look she was forcing him out of the room. She pushed him and he stumbled. Feeling guilty for having to do this, Jane swallowed, but continued to pretend to ignore him.

As she marched him down the steps toward the main door, she turned to the two men who had tried to stop her. She spoke again in the same language.

"By the way, Senor Guiterrez sends his regards."

When she got to the main door, she realised they were out of time. The guards were coming in from the changeover. Jane quickly pulled out the pellet gun and fired one pellet before the first man could get his handgun out. She pushed Oliver aside as the second man managed to get his own gun out quickly and was aiming. She fired again and he went down, but not before he got his own shot off. Jane dodged, forcing Oliver in front of her.

"Get to the door," she hissed quietly in his ear. He nodded, in complete understanding.

Putting the pellet gun in her holster, she picked up the dropped handgun and followed him out.

Getting out of the bunkhouse was the easy part. Getting him out of the compound was going to be another matter. Jane knew he was in no shape to climb, but they had no choice. Grabbing on to the pulley, Jane turned to him.

"Hold on tight."

Within seconds the device had them over the fence. Jane continued to hold onto Oliver as they dropped to the ground. He stumbled, clearly winded. She glanced at him, quickly assessing. He had lost a lot of weight, a lot of condition. He'd been starving himself and it had taken its toll.

"Come on," she said, grabbing his arm. Oliver tried to resist her pull, but right now, she was stronger than him. Although not by much, she thought. The days in hospital, plus the weeks of recuperation hadn't helped her keep in shape either.

Once back at the tiny cabin, Jane got out her first aid supplies. She made him strip off, then heated water on the fire. Oliver hissed in pain when the first drops hit his open wounds, and tried to move away from her.

"Don't be such a baby," she scolded. "I have to clean these wounds or else they'll get infected."

"You should have just left me there," he told her, glaring around at her.

"What? And miss all the abuse I'm bound to get from you?"

"Bitch! I never asked for you to come rescue me," he spat bitterly.

"Whatever Queen!"

As she cleaned him up, she noticed a gash in his back. Whether it had been from one of the men getting too enthusiastic with the whip, or whether they'd beaten him with something else wasn't clear, but it needed stitches, and there was no way he was going to lie still for that.

Nevertheless, it had to be done. Fortunately, or unfortunately for him, Jane had come prepared. She took out a syringe and a bottle of clear fluid. Oliver's eyes widened as he saw it.

"What are you going to do with that?"

Jane didn't respond. Grabbing the rubbing alcohol, she pulled his loose pants down, exposing his butt cheek, rubbing the right spot, then plunging the needle in. It happened so quickly he had no time to stop it. As the sedative spread through his blood cells, Oliver's eyes began to droop. He was fighting it, but she knew from experience how potent this stuff was.

"Nighty night," she told him. Within less than a minute, he was out. Jane sighed in relief. Now she could work without him fidgeting.


	6. Chapter 6

"He's a mess. He's lost a lot of weight and he was whipped pretty badly."

"My god," Lois said. Jane had called Lois and Clark on a cellphone especially designed for areas where they had few or no cellphone towers.

"I don't think he has any internal injuries though. The bastards don't want to lose another worker if they can help it."

"Will Santelli know it was you?"

"I'm hoping not. That's why I dropped the name. Guiterrez is a rival drug lord in another town. I want to let Santelli think that Guiterrez has had Oliver taken as some kind of leverage. What about Broots? Has he done what I asked?"

Clark came on the phone.

"Don't worry, Jane. He's already working on faking the emails. And Chloe's helping too." Jane wanted Santelli to think that Guiterrez was trying to broker a deal with Intergang through faked communications. Having Chloe and Broots, the foundation's expert on just about everything to do with computers, working together meant the work would be done quickly and it would be virtually undetectable.

"Good. I don't know how long we'll be here. He's not in any shape to be travelling right now."

"I could come and get him," Clark offered.

"And you can't take any chance that you'll be seen in the area, Clark. You, or Superman."

He sighed. "Yeah, you're right." Jane had already warned him that if the blue boyscout was seen here for anything other than a natural disaster it might start an international incident. People like Santelli were cagey, and suspicious of anything or anyone with any ties to the US. That included Superman.

Besides, she thought, he had a pregnant wife to take care of. She could easily handle Oliver. Given how much weight he had lost, there was no way he could fight her. Shutting off the cellphone, Jane went back inside the cabin to find he was awake.

"Bitch!" he said, his voice full of hostility and his brown eyes shooting lightning bolts of anger.

"Temper, temper," she tsked.

"Did you expect anything else?" he asked. "You fucking drugged me."

"Oh please, with the cocktail of designer drugs you've been sniffing or snorting or whatever the hell you've been doing the past few months, one little sedative is nothing."

"What I do on my own time is none of your fucking business."

He started to get up, but Jane knew he would be too weak for that. He had been starving himself and had been beaten on top of it. Just as she thought, he sank back down on the lumpy mattress.

"Yet from what I hear, it's all been about me. Or am I mistaken in thinking the models you've been dating just look only a little like me."

"Fuck you Jane," he snarled.

"No thanks. Been there, done that."

"This is all your fault," he spat. "If you hadn't ..."

"Blah, blah, blah, go on say it. Tell me how I fucked up your life, turned around and betrayed you, poured all those drinks down your throat. And oh yeah, I was responsible for you trying to fucking kill yourself. Don't think I don't know about that," she snarled back as he made as if to deny it. "How many times was it, Oliver? Hmm, let's see, there was the bar in Mexico where you tried to goad that guy into beating the shit out of you, or worse. Oh yeah, that would have been fun. Or the Toyman trying to blow you up? Oh no, wait, it was you trying to O'D on some shit you bought off the street. Boy, I bet it was great getting your stomach pumped."

She glared at him. "You know, I could have been sunning myself on some beach in Hawaii, but no, I had to come down here and get you out of the shit because you're too stupid to know a bad situation when you see one."

Oliver bristled visibly at the 'stupid' remark. He bit back angrily.

"Yeah, well if your brother hadn't decided to limit my funds, what the hell else was I going to do?" He decided not to mention anything about the girl he'd tried to help.

"Gee, I don't know. How about grow up, for starters? Stop acting like such a spoiled brat and grow some balls. Instead of wallowing in self-pity. The fucking world does not revolve around you."

"I see you picked up a whole new vocabulary," he smirked, trying to detract from the fact that some of her comments had hit home.

"Hmph, I guess that's what comes from hanging around with the likes of you."

"Whatever, bitch!"

"Same to you, prick!"

Jane turned away, seething in anger. She went over to the little gas burner and heated up some vegetable soup, knowing his stomach wouldn't be up to much. She busied herself with the soup, keeping her back to him. It wasn't easy. The cabin was tiny, and she felt suffocated with his stare.

He was laying on his side, watching her. Damn, he thought. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Why couldn't he just forget about her? Move on with his life? She'd betrayed him, lied to him.

He thought back to that final confrontation in the warehouse, the night she'd taken down Lex Luthor. Clark had been kidnapped by Mannheim and his men, using Kryptonite. Although Jane had warned him and the girls to stay in the apartment they were using as a safehouse, he'd gone anyway. Only to find that, to all appearances, she had set him up and was working for Luthor.

But as it went on, he realised that it was Luthor who had been set up by Jane. Both Chloe and Lois had also been captured when they'd disobeyed Jane, and slowly the truth came out. Luthor had ordered her to kill Clark, and she'd sprung the trap.

_Oliver was at pains to understand why she hadn't told him, or Clark the plan._

_"You could have told me the truth," he said. "You didn't need the charade."_

_"Would you have understood if I did?" she told him pointedly. "You would have wanted to stop me."_

_"Damn it, Jane. Don't you realise what could have happened? Clark could have been killed. We all could have."_

_"If you had all done as you were told, none of this would have been necessary," she snapped. "You should have stayed in the safe-house."_

_"Did you really expect us to?" Chloe spoke up. Lois looked at her cousin and nodded._

_"We couldn't leave our friends in danger," Lois told her._

_"No. I expect not," Jane said._

_Oliver shook his head. "I don't even know who, or what you are."_

_"I'm a Pretender. I'm what people like Lex and The Centre made me."_

_That had ended things between them. Oliver had loved her, but a big part of him wanted to hate her. It was from there that things had spiralled out of control for him. He'd started drinking, trying to do everything he could to drown out the memories of the months she'd shared his bed. He had fallen hard for the first time in his life, and he'd realised the woman he'd fallen for had been a complete stranger._

Jane turned, handing him a bowl of hot, steaming soup. Oliver was so hungry he could have eaten anything, but instead he got soup, he thought with a grimace.

"Eat it slowly," she ordered. "You've been eating nothing but crap for over a month, if at all, and your digestive system is out of whack."

"Yes ma'am," he said sarcastically, taking the spoon from her hand. Jane said nothing, turning and going back outside. Sighing, Oliver tried the soup. It was actually good. No, it was better than good. It was great, he thought, taking another spoonful.

Part of him wondered why Jane would just drop everything to come for him. Until he realised that the Queen Industries board annual general meeting was coming up. He had to make an appearance, for appearance's sake. Jarod had obviously ordered her to come down here and get him.

Of course, he thought. She'd said something about sunning herself on a beach. She must have been recalled from vacation. What a bitch, he thought. Her vacation was obviously more important to her than her job.

XXXXX

Lois rubbed her swollen belly, then tried to focus on the story she was writing. She was worried. About what was happening down in South America. About Oliver, and Jane, especially Jane. The Pretender had become a good friend in the months since everything with Luthor had gone down. The other woman had worked hard to make up for what had happened and Lois admired that. She was willing to admit her mistakes. Something Lois had always had trouble with.

A cup of steaming hot herbal tea was placed in front of her.

"You look like you could use a pick-me-up."

Lois smiled up at her cousin.

"I just don't think I can focus."

"Hmm, let me guess, a certain couple down in South America?"

Lois sighed. "How did you know?"

"Lois, ever since you got pregnant, you've become like a mother hen. Don't get me wrong. I kind of like it and I know Clark does, but not everyone likes having a keeper. Especially not Jane. She can take care of herself."

Lois shook her head. That point was debatable, especially after everything that happened.

"It's just ... it's Oliver, you know?"

"Lo, I know Oliver's brain has been pretty much M.I.A for the last few months, but give Jane some credit. She knows him better than he knows himself, and she knows how to deal with him."

"But Chloe, it's Oliver!"

Chloe must have forgotten. When Oliver had OD'd on whatever drugs he'd been taking, Lois had been the one to find him. He had been totally out of it, on the floor of his penthouse apartment. Lois had gone to talk to him, to try to talk some sense into him after she'd heard from Bobby Bigmouth that Oliver had been buying drugs from some street dealer.

_"Oliver?" she called as she came out of the elevator. Stepping into the apartment, she listened, until she heard the clink of a bottle on the tiled floor._

_"Hey, Lois, pull up a chair, or a pillow, or whatever."_

_Lois immediately saw the pallor of his skin, heard his laboured breathing. She quickly looked around and saw the powder on the glass-topped table._

_"Oliver, what the hell?"_

_But he was beyond any sensible reply. Lois panicked as she bent down and touched his fevered brow. He was burning up. She quickly dialled._

_"Smallville, I need you."_

_In seconds, Clark was there. She didn't need to say anything. As soon as he saw Oliver, he picked him up and flew him to the hospital._

_It was a short time later that Lois made her way to Oliver's private room. He looked better, although still pale and he glared at her._

_"What do you want?"_

_"What do you think? Oliver, what the hell were you thinking? You OD'd on smack? Is that what that was?"_

_"It's none of your business," he snarled._

_"None of my business. Oliver, do you hear yourself? I'm your friend and you're trying to kill yourself. How is that none of my business?"_

_"Stay away from this Lois. I mean it."_

_"I'm trying to help you, you obnoxious jackass."_

_"Don't need your help."_

_With that, he rolled over, ignoring any further attempts from her to get through to him._

Chloe looked at her cousin.

"Lois, you are not responsible for his screw-ups, okay? He's the one who refused to accept help. He's the one who turned his back on you. You tried. We all did. He just didn't want to know."

"I just remember all those months when he kept saying it was because of what Jane did."

"And you know what Jane said. She didn't understand then. She's a different person now."

"Are you sure, Chloe? Because when she was talking to me and Clark yesterday, it was like she was trying to hide something. The way she used to. I mean, I know I sort of defended her when everyone else was thinking, well, you know ... but now, I don't know."

"You said yourself, Jane still has feelings for him. This can't be easy for her, you know? I mean, she did almost die a month ago."

Lois knew Chloe was right, but she still worried. Because whenever Jane was trying to bury her feelings, she used a cool, almost impersonal tone. When she'd talked about Oliver yesterday, it was almost like she'd been talking about a broken-down car. It was exactly the way her family had often talked about the younger Pretender.

Clark chose that moment to return to the office from whatever latest rescue he had been doing.

"Everything okay?" Lois asked.

He nodded, quickly giving both his wife and his best friend a hug. "Why don't I tell you about it at lunch."

"Ooh, can I have pickles and icecream?" Lois asked, teasing him. She hated pickles but she'd heard that pregnant women seemed to crave them. He frowned for a moment, then saw the teasing gleam in her eye.

"You ..." he chuckled.

"Nah," she stood up with his help. "What I really want is a hamburger."

"A hamburger?" he said, helping her with her coat. Not that she needed it. Somehow, this baby was making her impervious to cold weather. But like Clark, she put it on for appearances' sake.

"Yup, with everything on it. Ooh, and orange juice."

"Freshly squeezed," he said at the same time as her. Lois just grinned at him and kissed him. He sighed. "Okay, hamburgers it is," he said, putting his arms over the shoulders of his two favourite girls and walking them out of the office.


	7. Chapter 7

Jane didn't sleep. She hardly ever slept. In fact, she thought, the only time she had ever really slept was when she was with Oliver. There were too many dreams. Nightmares in which she was tied down, beaten.

_As a six year old, she had been forced to watch a man being tortured._

_"What is he feeling?"_

_"Pain," she said. "But his mind is somewhere else. He doesn't want to give them what they want, so he takes himself somewhere else in his mind."_

_"Why? Tell me."_

_She glanced at her teacher, then back at the screen. There was so much blood. But she could see empty eyes staring back at her as the man faced horrific pain from the various instruments used on him._

_"Focus," her teacher said. "Don't look at me. Tell me what he's thinking."_

_"I won't give up," she whispered, barely noticing the tears falling down her face. But the image was too much. She turned away. Her teacher grabbed her jaw, forcing her to face forward but she struggled._

_"No, no," she cried out in her childish voice. "No, don't make me."_

_"Tell me!"_

_"NO!" she screamed. The tears were streaming down her cheeks. Suddenly she was pulled up, arms around her waist. She struggled against the arms that held her but they were too strong. Forced onto her knees, her teacher stood over her._

_"What are emotions?" he said._

_"Emotions are bad," she sobbed, knowing what was coming but powerless to stop it. "I must be ob ... ob ..."_

_"Objective! Say it!"_

_But she was only six years old and the first lash of the belt had her screaming._

_"You are a tool. You are nothing but what we say you are. You are a Pretender. You have no will of your own. Say it!"_

_Another lash as she sobbed. And again. And more, until she was so exhausted from crying, from the beating, that she blacked out._

With a gasp, Jane came awake, shaking. She quickly glanced toward Oliver, but it seemed the sedative she'd given him had worked well enough. He was out to it.

However, Oliver was nowhere near asleep. Her cries had woken him. Part of him wanted to reach out to her. Take her in his arms and soothe her, the way he had done when they were together. But as Jane moved restlessly in the chair in the darkness, he lay back, staring up at the ceiling.

He knew what she had been through. He may not understand her pain, may not have experienced it, but knowing what had happened to her as a child made him so angry, he was tempted to track down the bastard and kill him. No child should have to go through pain like that.

Jane had called it negative reinforcement. She'd never been allowed emotions or a personality of her own. She'd been trained to absorb the personality of the subject she was studying. It wasn't fair, he thought. Here he was, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, yet Jane had been tortured, imprisoned most of her life by people who played God.

He still wondered, sometimes, if the world would be better off without him in it. He didn't deserve his life. With a sigh, Oliver tried to go back to sleep, hearing Jane get up and walk quietly outside.

He knew he should have been better than this. His parents would have been ashamed of him. But after everything that had gone wrong – Jimmy's death, Clark being hurt, then the young girl being murdered in front of him, he just gave up believing in anything any more. For a little while, Jane had helped him keep the darkness away, by being the light that brightened his life. She had betrayed that, and he just couldn't fight that darkness. It overwhelmed him like a tidal wave, and he had been slowly drowning since the day she'd walked out of his life.

Jane sat on the rickety steps on the cabin, staring out into the darkness. She was covered in a cold sweat. She hated the nightmares, but no matter what she did, she couldn't escape them. For a short time, Oliver had been the one thing that gave her the strength to fight them. The one person who had broken through her barriers, made her feel that she did have a chance to be something other than what she was.

She remembered the night she'd gone to him. It had been a couple of days after she'd lost her virginity to him.

_Oliver had been dozing in bed when she came in. He'd woken and looked up at her in her dark pink tank top and white cotton pyjama pants._

_"Can I sleep with you?" she'd asked softly. He'd studied her. She knew she looked nervous, but only because she was afraid he'd say no. "Just sleep," she'd assured him. "No sex." They'd already had this conversation. Things had happened a little too fast. No matter how much she'd wanted it, Jane had realised that she hadn't been ready for the sex._

_Oliver had smiled and pulled back the covers, inviting her in. She'd lain down, cuddling close to him, feeling his warmth as she dropped off to sleep. But even then, her sleep had been plagued by nightmares._

_Oliver had told her the next day that she'd thrashed in the bed and accidentally hit him until he moved over her, grasping her flailing arm by the wrist, holding her so she didn't hurt herself. Still deep asleep, somehow his words of reassurance got through._

_The nightmares had improved after that, until the night she'd left him. Then they'd returned in full force. A week after, Jane had woken in a cold sweat, unable to remember what she had been dreaming about, but knowing it was fairly intense._

_Getting up, she dressed and quietly slipped out of the house, knowing her brother was a light sleeper. A habit, she supposed, of years of being on the run from The Centre. _

_She walked along the shore in the cold grey light of dawn. It was mid-winter, but nowhere near as cold in California as it had been in Kansas. Jane welcomed the cool breeze that came in from the Pacific. It was no colder than the shards of ice tearing at her heart._

_In the week since everything had fallen apart, she had experienced a myriad of emotions. From heartache which felt like a physical pain to anger. At herself, at Oliver, at The Centre, but mostly at herself. And she didn't want to, but she ended up taking it out on her family._

_As Jane watched the waves break on the shore, she had a sudden, intense desire to go with them as they returned to the depths. To go and never return, give herself up to the watery depths._

_"It's peaceful isn't it?"_

_Jane turned and looked at Sydney. He had been staying with the family, keeping an eye on her, she imagined. He smiled gently._

_Jane just shrugged. "Maybe the sound of the waves is peaceful, but I don't know. It's not something I'd take for granted. It just reminds me of how little about nature I know."_

_Sydney canted his head and looked studiously at her. "Are you talking about Mother Nature, or human nature."_

_"A little of both." She sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if everyone would have been better off if I'd just stayed in The Centre."_

_"Is that really how you feel?"_

_Jane scowled at him. "Don't try and psycho-analyse me, Dr Freud."_

_He just laughed at her, then sobered at her expression. "Jane, what are you really thinking? You can talk to me, you know."_

_"Won't you just tell Jarod?"_

_"There is such a thing as doctor-patient confidentiality."_

_Jane slumped down on the sand and he came to sit beside her. "I don't know what to do anymore," she confessed. "Everything went wrong and I don't understand why."_

_"Don't you? Tell me, Jane, when you were planning to destroy Lex Luthor, were you thinking with your heart or your head?"_

_"What does that have to do with anything?"_

_"Jane, you've been taught to think logically. Without emotion. Everything went badly because you failed to take others' feelings into account. Your actions have consequences, not only for yourself, but for those around you. If you fail to include their feelings in the equation, then you end up hurting those you care about."_

_"They should have done what they were told," Jane said stubbornly._

_"But given their passionate natures, do you really think they could have stood by and allowed it to happen."_

_"They should have trusted me," she told him._

_Sydney looked at her, his expression sympathetic. "Ah, but trust is a two-way street."_

Sydney had been right. For months she had refused to even consider the possibility that she might have been wrong about what she had done. It took working with someone like Nick Stokes, and Michael Knight, for her to see the sense in what the former psychiatrist had tried to tell her.

Guilt had eaten her up inside. Just as all those other emotions had overwhelmed her. Living for years with repressed emotions, she sometimes couldn't handle the intensity of the new ones. During the day, when she was working, Pretending, it was easy to suppress them. Become what she had to be to keep going. It was at night, when she tried to let go, that they surfaced. Through nightmares.

Jane sighed. Whether she liked it or not, Oliver was a big part of the reason for those nightmares. She had wronged him, but she had no idea how to fix it.


	8. Chapter 8

Jarod sat thinking in the quiet of the office. Thinking about his sister and the situation in Colombia. Had he sent her too soon, he wondered. Was she ready to face her demons? Was Oliver, for that matter? They needed each other; the question was, were either of them ready to admit that.

"Hey."

Jarod looked up at his wife. Then smiled fondly as she came around the desk. He pulled her into his lap, and she gently stroked his face, pushing his hair out of the way.

"Where are the kids?" he asked.

"With Chloe and Bruce."

Jarod canted his head. "Chloe and Bruce? When did that happen?"

"Don't tell me the Pretender's out of the loop on this one? Chloe and Bruce have been seeing each other for a while."

"I can't imagine Bruce being happy about having two eight year olds at his heels."

Parker smiled. "Oh, I don't know," she drawled. "I think Chloe's managed to tame him."

"I doubt that," Jarod drawled back. She just grinned.

"So what were you thinking about?"

"Jane and Oliver."

"Who else?" she chuckled. "Deny it all you want Jarod, but you are the quintessential romantic."

"Oh? Why would you say that?"

"You think everyone would be happier if they have someone."

"Well, I got you to marry me, didn't I?"

She smiled gently. "Yes, you did."

He kissed her, pushing her long hair aside. Despite her age, she still had beautiful long locks. There might be more grey in it now, but he didn't care. To him, she was more beautiful now than when he had fallen in love with her as a child.

"You know," he began, "since the kids are occupied, and there's no one else around, what do you say to a little fooling around?"

"Are you propositioning me?" she said, trying to look stern.

"Yep," he agreed.

"Mm, I love the way your evil mind works," she murmured, returning his kiss by thrusting her tongue in his mouth. Jarod pulled her closer, his hands at her waist, supporting her. She squirmed in his lap, feeling his hardness beneath her, then slowly began unbuttoning her blouse. "Let's give that mind of yours something else to think about," she grinned slyly.

Jarod's eyes became wider, his pupils dilating as she revealed her luscious silk-clad breasts. He loved it like this. He loved the mystery of what lay beneath the creamy coloured silk as much as the reveal. Pulling her to him, he closed his mouth around one covered mound, his tongue seeking. Before long, one side of the bra was wet.

Parker was grinding her ass against him, and he knew she was needing him as much as he was needing her right now. Hey, he may be fifty-one, but he was still a red-blooded male, and when faced with a gorgeous woman like his wife, the only woman he'd ever really loved, who wouldn't want what she was offering.

Burying his face in her breasts, Jarod cupped her ass, lifting her slightly, feeling Parker cling to him. She moaned softly as he pinched lightly. He let her lift his head, crush his mouth with hers as she put her arms around his neck. Jarod moved one hand between them, delving underneath her skirt to stroke her. Her panties were soaked.

Standing up with an effort, Jarod lifted her with him, then let her down. She made a small sound of protest until he reached around to undo the fastenings at the back of her skirt. The garment dropped to the floor and she looked up at him with a sly smile. Reaching her own hand out, Parker undid his pants, sliding the belt slowly out of the loops, lust misting her eyes.

Jarod didn't make a sound until she dropped to her knees and her warmth surrounded him, swallowed him.

"Oh god, Angel," he moaned at the smooth slide of her tongue over him. He laid a hand on her head, guiding her as she made small humming noises which only increased his arousal.

Pulling away, Jarod lifted his wife to lay her on her back on the desk, brushing everything else aside as he pulled her panties off and buried himself inside her, pulling her legs up to lean on his shoulders. She alternately gasped and moaned as he thrust deep within her, taking all he had to give.

But even as he continued thrusting inside her, Parker clearly wasn't done with him. Letting her legs down, she moved off the desk and turned her back to him, leaning her hands on the desk. Jarod took her invitation, pressing himself against her as he entered her again, lifting her leg slightly to get deeper.

"Jarod!" she moaned.

"Angel!" he cried out.

"God!"

Anyone could have walked in and they wouldn't have cared, they were so lost in each other.

Afterward, they lay on the big leather sofa, gently stroking each other's bodies. Parker looked up at her husband, touching his face.

"You're still thinking too much," she said with a frown.

"Am I?"

"Jarod. You have to trust Jane."

They'd had this argument before. But as much as Jarod wanted to just trust in his sister, he knew there were things that Jane still hadn't dealt with. And Oliver Queen was one of them.

"I'm wondering if maybe we should have asked someone else."

"Jarod, you said it yourself. Both of them have to deal with their unfinished business. Remember what you told me when Thomas died?"

"That was different honey."

"Was it? You knew that if I had kept burying those feelings, all that guilt for getting involved with Thomas in the first place, then it would have destroyed me. Now look at Oliver. He's got himself in deep trouble because he hasn't dealt with his own feelings over what happened. Whereas Jane has kept pretending, burying herself in work. It's not healthy."

Jarod studied his wife. "How did you get so smart?"

"Oh please, I was always smarter than you."

"Really?" he said, with an amused smirk.

"Really," she returned.

"I might have to debate that," he told her with a grin. Her expression challenged him and he quickly set about trying to prove his point.

Their laughter was heard down the hall by the security guard, who was coming to do his rounds. He listened for a moment to the couple and smiled. It was always good to hear a couple happy in their relationship, and Sam had seen this couple go through their ups and downs for as long as he'd known them. Even in his days at The Centre, he'd always known Jarod and Parker had a thing for each other.

XXXXX

Jane came back in from outside, having met with one of the villagers to get supplies. Oliver was still in the bed, refusing to get up.

"Still sulking?" she scowled at him. He just scowled back and turned over. Jane sighed. For two days, Oliver had been acting depressed. His cuts and bruises were slowly healing, as was the gash in his back. He was strong enough now to get up and at least get some exercise. But he had stubbornly refused.

Jane sighed again. "You know, sooner or later you're going to have to talk to me," she told him. "Stop acting like a spoilt child," she scolded.

"Fuck you!" he muttered, just loud enough for Jane to be sure that he intended for her to hear.

"Well, you don't like it, there's the door," she said, nodding her head in that direction. "Of course, with Santelli's men out there looking for you, I doubt you'd last five minutes."

"Bitch! Think you know everything!"

"Well, I think that is pretty obvious," she retorted. "Since I'm the one who managed to get you out of that crap-hole."

"No one asked you to," he snapped.

"Oh, believe me, Oliver, if I had been given a choice, I would have left you there to rot!"

"Yeah, I bet you would." He smirked. "Funny how things change, isn't it? A year ago, you were practically begging for me."

"Well, now, I wouldn't touch you for all the money in the world."

"Feeling's mutual! I swear, getting involved with you was the worst mistake I ever made! You poison everything you touch!"

"And once again, I seem to be the one responsible for the way you screwed up your life."

"You are," he spat.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

"Shut up!" he yelled.

"Why should I? I didn't do anything wrong! You're the one who wouldn't do as you were told!"

"You almost got me killed! You almost got Clark killed!"

"No you did by your pathological need to act the hero. Well look at you now. Look where that got you!"

Oliver had had enough of this. He threw back the covers and got out of the bed, standing to face her angrily.

"At least I was out there making a difference! What did you ever do except pretend to be someone else? You spend most of your life in The Centre and you really think one year can change what you are?"

Oh, that was a low blow, Jane thought. He knew what they'd done to her in The Centre. He knew what she'd gone through in that place.

"At least I've made the effort to change," she hissed. "You ... you're just a little boy playing at being a grown-up. You really think being Green Arrow changed who you were?"

Oliver could feel himself growing hotter and hotter as the argument heated up. God, she was beautiful when she was angry. And all he could think was how much he wanted her. How much he had always wanted her.

He wanted very much to shut her up. So he used the only weapon he had at his disposal. He grabbed her and kissed her.

Startled, she didn't respond at first, her lips tight. Oliver thrust his tongue in between, pulling her closer with his hand at the back of her neck. She seemed to lose all resistance then, opening her mouth and letting him in.

The kiss became even more heated. The more he put into it, the closer he wanted to be to her. He moaned when she pulled away, staring at him with ill-concealed lust.

They continued to stand, staring at each other for a long moment, panting, eyes glaring, still angry. Still, Oliver wasn't about to let this go. Neither was Jane, he thought, as she grabbed him and kissed him back hungrily.

Oliver moved his hands down to her ass, slipping his hand inside the cotton pants she was wearing, caressing her bare skin underneath. She whimpered, gasping as he pushed her up against the wall. Oliver pushed the pants down past her ass, the cotton sliding down to mid-thigh. Jane's hand worked at his boxers, pushing them down past his hips.

He lifted her, pulling her legs around his waist and she locked them in place. His tongue plundered her mouth and she pulled him closer, arms around his neck as she used the wall for balance. The kiss seemed to go on and on until neither one of them could breathe. Then Jane stared at him, eyes wide, slowly guiding herself onto him, impaling her body on him.

Oliver grunted. She was so tight and it was almost as if he was sucked inside her. Jane moved her hips, thrusting her body up and down a little and he took up the rhythm, pounding deep inside her, not caring as her back hit the wall. It was heated and angry but it felt so good.

She gasped, her body tensing at her approaching climax, eyes widening as she was wracked with spasms. Her muscles tightened around him as he emptied himself inside her.

He hadn't even begun to soften when he lifted her away from the wall and eased her down on the bed to finish what they'd started. It was a while before they fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Oliver woke some time later. Jane was sound asleep, curled in his arms. Rolling over gently, so as not to disturb her, Oliver looked her over. She had certainly worked out a lot, but she didn't look as healthy as she had done over a year ago, despite the apparent strength in her. As he gently pulled away, he got a closer look at her naked body. He'd loved seeing her this way. Jane had been so tough before, so protective of herself that she'd put up walls. Only when she was deep asleep had she shown any kind of vulnerability.

He slowly examined her in the dim light of the dawning day. It was only then that he saw it. A scar on her chest, just below the breast line. The unmistakeable mark of a bullet wound.

"Oh Janie," he said softly. "What's happened to you?"

Manoeuvring himself slowly away from her, Oliver got up out of the bed and pulled on his pants. He knew where she kept the cellphone she'd called her brother with to get a report. Stepping quietly outside the little cabin, Oliver dialled the familiar number, realising just how long it had been since he'd actually talked to the person on the other end.

"Lois? It's Ollie."

"What do you want?"

"I need to talk to Clark. It's important."

"Why?"

"Lois, please, just put him on." Damn, he certainly had a lot to make up for with her. He knew he'd earned the hostility in Lois' voice, but the silence that greeted his plea made him wonder if she was thinking about it. Then Clark's voice came on the line.

"Oliver?" Clark's tone showed surprise, but no hostility.

"Clark, I need to ask you something. And I need you to be honest with me. What happened to Jane? I saw the scar, Clark."

"She was shot. In the Middle East."

"God!"

As he sat on the step, he listened as Clark told him the story.

_Jane had gone to the Middle East to rescue a journalist, kidnapped by a terrorist group; Islamic extremists with almost as much influence as Al Qaeda, but with less resources. They hated journalists, and Americans, and Sam Macgyver had been both._

_It was during the rescue that Jane had been shot. Sam, along with a friend, had managed to get her to the military base, where Jane had been medi-vac'd to the closest allied hospital. Doctors had removed the bullet from her chest but she was in critical condition and whether she would live or not was going to be touch and go._

_Clark had flown in as Superman._

_"Superman?" The army surgeon had turned and looked at him. The man looked a little like Alan Alda, the actor from M*A*S*H. Or maybe Clark had just imagined the parallels between this army hospital, and the old black comedy about the Korean War. His father, Jonathan Kent, had loved the show when he had been a teenager._

_"I'm a friend of Miss Smith's. How is she?"_

_The doctor ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, looking exhausted._

_"It's touch and go," he said. "To be honest, we're not even sure if she'll make it through the night. She had extensive haemorrhaging, a collapsed lung and the bullet nicked a major artery."_

_Clark nodded. He would have to report back to Jarod and tell him his sister's condition. It was not going to be a pleasant time for the family._

_Meanwhile, he glanced at the older man standing in the waiting room. He approached him._

_"Excuse me," he said._

_The man turned, his eyes grief-stricken._

_"Superman," he said, almost startled. "I'm Sam. The journalist. God, she stepped in front of the bullet. It was meant for me. Why did she do that?"_

_That was Jane, Clark thought. Giving more of herself than taking. She'd become so selfless in the past year. _

_"I'm sorry," Clark said. "If I had known ..."_

_"You weren't to know, Superman. I ..."_

_But Clark was hearing something. Alarms. His face drained of all colour. Then an announcement came over the loudspeaker._

_"Code Blue, Code Blue, ICU room two. Code Blue."_

_"Oh no," Sam said, his face paling._

_Sam looked as if he wanted to run to the room, but Clark stopped him. _

_"They won't let you, you know that."_

_"I know," Sam said. _

_Clark just listened, hearing the doctors work on Jane. Calling for adrenaline, then the paddles. She was dying! Come on, fight, he said silently. Fight Jane. Don't give up now._

_The time ticked away, seeming like hours, yet it was only minutes. He winced each time he heard them using the paddles, increasing the shock. He heard the desperation in the doctor's voices._

"She was clinically dead for three minutes, Oliver," Clark told him.

Oliver knew that that amount of time could feel like an eternity for some. Jane had died, even for just a few minutes and he hadn't been there. He felt sick inside that she had gone through something like this alone.

"You still there?" Clark said.

"Yeah, I'm still here." But Oliver couldn't keep the lump out of his throat, or the hoarseness out of his voice. Here he'd been, getting into all sorts of trouble, feeling sorry for himself and Jane had almost died saving someone else's life. He was the worst kind of fool. "God, Clark, what have I done?"

"Ollie, you can't change the past, but you need to move on. Start over. Whatever. You and her."

"Jane? I don't get it. I thought ..."

"Jane's good at pretending, Ollie, don't get me wrong, but she's been hiding the same as you. You both need to work this out. Together. Because I think," And here Clark paused as if Lois was looking at him and saying something. "No, Lois thinks she still has feelings for you, and I think she might be right about that. I also think you still have something for her too. You have to do something, before one of you does something to get yourself killed."

The cabin door opened and Jane came out, wrapped in the blanket from the bed. "Who are you talking to?" she asked, blinking in the grey light of dawn.

Oliver quickly shut off the cellphone. "Uh, no-one."

"Liar." Oliver sighed.

"All right, fine, I was talking to Clark. I was asking him about the bullet wound."

Jane glanced down toward her chest, then glared up at him.

"It's not your concern."

"Janie, you were almost killed."

"So? And don't call me that. You lost that right a long time ago."

Oliver stood up, going to put his arms around her, but she was like a prickly burr, refusing to let him touch her. Even after the night they'd had. The sex had been amazing; incredible, but he'd forgotten what prompted it. Jane clearly hadn't.

"Don't!"

"Janie ..."

"Stop it," she told him. "You can't just ... you know, just because we had amazing sex, it doesn't change anything between us. I mean, first of all, that wasn't love, it was hate sex, and you know it. And second, what gives you the right to go talking to anybody about anything concerning me?"

"Jane, I just wanted to know, and you clearly weren't going to tell me."

"It's none of your business, that's why!"

"Do you think I wouldn't have cared if you'd been killed? Of course I would have!"

"And did you care about what I might have heard when you were screwing your life up? Did you even think about how I might have felt then?"

"You mean, the way you thought about how I would feel about you pretending to work for Lex?"

"I made a bad choice, I don't deny that, Oliver. But it wasn't deliberate. Whereas you ... you did all those things to get back at me. To hurt me. And you did hurt me."

To his surprise, and concern, he could see she was crying. "I tried, Oliver. I tried to forget you. But every time I heard you had been seen with yet another model, another ... clone ... of me, it was like you twisting the knife in one more time. And you knew I'd hear about it. How could I not?"

She was right. He'd dated model after model, not in a bid to forget her, but to hurt her. He was a bastard. A jerk, an insensitive asshole. He'd blamed everything on her from the moment things had started going wrong and he'd known even then that it was his choice, not hers. He had screwed up.

Ignoring her efforts to push him away, Oliver gathered her in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispered, over and over. "I never should have done that to you, Janie."

She continued to stand rigid in his arms until the dam broke and she was sobbing. Another thing Clark had been right about. She'd been pretending – trying to act tough when she was really broken inside. She might have gone out to learn about humanity, to redeem herself, but her redemption had been right here, with him. He'd made the worst mistake in letting her go.

"I never should have let you go," he whispered. "I should have stopped you. I'm a fool for ever letting you go."

And then Jane confessed something he had never thought he'd hear.

"I never stopped loving you," she said softly. "I've always loved you."

Oliver kissed her, licking away the salty tears on her cheeks, then lifted her in his arms, his left arm under her knees as he carried her to the bed. Letting her down gently on the lumpy mattress, he pulled off the blanket, tossing it behind him on the floor as he kissed her again, before burying his mouth in her neck. Jane moaned in response.

Slowly, Oliver made his way down her body. He stopped at the scar, still a little raw from the wound as the skin slowly healed over. Gently, he lapped at it, tracing its shape with his tongue. Jane moaned again, and he looked up, seeing her eyes closed. He went back to licking the raw area, keeping it gentle, and she made a small noise in her throat, almost like a mewl.

Then her hands were reaching up to his blonde head, fingers curling in his length, guiding him away from the scar. He grinned. Jane had always been clear about what she liked during sex. He liked that assertiveness about her. He let her guide his mouth, biting gently until she groaned. His nose took in her sweet scent as his tongue tasted the sweetness of her skin. She'd always tasted like strawberries to him. At least, that was what he imagined.

Jane whimpered, writhing beneath him as he continued his ministrations.

"Oliver," she whispered, arching her back as if to bring her body closer. He took his time, savouring her sweetness. Jane's whimpers increased, almost as if she was begging him to speed things up.

But Oliver wanted to take it slow. There had been so many times in the past where they hadn't taken it slow. Like the first time with her. He had been so afraid of hurting her, knowing it was her first time, knowing she'd been a virgin, and he'd wanted so much to just let her get used to her own reactions, but he'd been so caught up in her, so lost within her, that he'd been unable to hold back, give her the experience she should have had.

It was over a year since that time and it was obvious Jane had had a little more experience. Part of him was jealous of any other men she'd been with. He might have made out he hated her for what she'd done, but he knew he couldn't hate her. He'd loved her. That was what made it so devastating for him when he thought she'd betrayed him, betrayed what they'd been to each other.

"Oliver," she whispered. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" he asked.

"Stop thinking so much. Please, just love me."

He smiled. He'd once told her to stop thinking like a Pretender and just feel. Now he was doing it. Over-analysing. Things had sure changed in the past year.

He let Jane roll him over onto his back and she bent her head to kiss him, letting her tongue twist around his, taking possession. He didn't mind. He liked Jane's assertiveness, and he loved the way she kissed, deep and hard, teasing him with her tongue.

He ran his hands over her nakedness, eliciting a whimper from her as he gently massaged her. She returned the favour by stroking him, even as her mouth moved to his jawline, licking a stripe over his whiskers.

"Janie," he whispered, turning his head to give her access to his throat. He whimpered in his turn as she alternately nipped, then licked the area where she'd just bitten. He groaned in response as he felt her teeth nip him again, pinching his skin.

"God," he moaned. He felt Jane's smile against his skin. "C'mere you," he said, lifting her up to lay her on her side, kissing her, pulling her closer. Jane looked at him, her dark eyes deep pools of emotion. Another thing that had changed in the past year, Oliver thought. Before, even when they'd made love, there had always been a part of her that held back. Now, she was an open book to him. He could see the love in her eyes, feel it in her touch.

Jane swung her leg over his hip and Oliver moved. Jane wound her arms around him, deepening the kiss as he entered her wet warmth. It almost felt like coming home, he thought. Their limbs tangled as his mouth found her throat. She threw her head back, eyes closed as he suckled.

She seemed to pull him in deeper and Oliver began to thrust in earnest, loving the way her muscles worked around him, bringing him closer and closer to that inevitable end. Part of him didn't want this to end, but another part of him craved that completion that only she could give him. He couldn't lie to himself any more. He'd fallen apart the night she'd left. Beaten, broken. He'd smashed into a thousand pieces and no one except her could put him back together again.

Jane began to shudder as she neared climax, her body almost spasming with the intensity. Oliver held her, not so lost in his own climax that he couldn't think about her at the same time. Jane's cries increased in volume and he kissed her to muffle them, take the cries into his own body. Finally, she quieted, her body trembling in his arms. He kissed her again, brushing the damp hair away from her face, kissing her forehead, her nose, then her cheeks until her whimpers stopped and her breathing returned to normal.


	10. Chapter 10

Jane grabbed what ingredients she could find and began beating eggs for an omelette. Okay, so it wasn't what she would call gourmet, she thought with a grin. It wouldn't be the best omelette she ever made, but she was hungry, and she had a pretty good feeling that Oliver would be too. Especially after the four rounds they'd had of lovemaking.

Speak of the devil, she thought as arms snaked around her waist.

"That my shirt?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm," she answered, loving the way he pulled her flush against him. He was naked, while Jane had picked up the t-shirt he'd been wearing, throwing it over herself while she cooked.

His whiskers scratched slightly as he pulled the neck of the t-shirt aside and began kissing along the smooth planes of her shoulder. His hands lifted the shirt at the hem, stroking her thighs, heading for what he called paradise. Jane gasped as she felt him pressing against her.

"Oliver," she protested. "I'm hungry."

He turned her in his arms and looked down at her, smiling slyly.

"Mm, me too," he said, his eyes dark with his own hunger.

With a mock scowl, Jane pushed him way. "For food, Queen."

His face fell in mock disappointment. "Party pooper," he drawled.

"You make me burn this your life won't be worth living," she growled, before turning back to the little wood stove. Oliver just put his arms around her again and continued his teasing. Jane tried to shrug him off. "I swear, Oliver ..."

He pressed his lips to the back of her neck and Jane was quickly moaning at the feel of his tongue as he licked the area where her spine and neck met. Damn, he was a tease. Leaning back in his arms, she turned her head and kissed him. Suddenly, a sizzling in the pan caught her attention.

"There, now you see what you made me do?" she said.

Quickly, Jane picked up a plate and dumped the almost burned omelette onto it. She then turned and advanced on the blonde archer.

"Now you are going to eat this and you're going to like it," she growled. "Or else no nooky."

"Aw, now them's fightin' words Miss Jane," he drawled. But he took the plate and pulled her with him back to the bed. Putting the plate down, he lifted the t-shirt off her, then sat back against the headboard, patting the space between his thighs invitingly. Jane grinned and settled between them.

Oliver grabbed a piece of omelette and dangled it above her mouth.

"Open wide," he teased. But before Jane could take a bite, he popped it into his own mouth. "Mm, good," he said. Jane slapped his leg.

"That's just mean," she said. "You're a mean man."

Her stomach growled at the smell of the cooked food and Oliver just laughed. Jane turned and glared at him and he laughed harder. She sent him a mock glare, baring her teeth and hissing.

"Ooh, she has claws," he teased, getting a jab in the ribs for his trouble. "Watch the bruises honey," he said.

"Then don't tease," she told him.

"Okay, I promise, I won't do it again."

"You better not. Because I do have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Oliver grinned at her. "What sleeve?" he said, looking pointedly at her nakedness.

"Grr, you know what I mean!"

It was amazing, she thought, how quickly they could go from hating each other to this. She loved the way he teased her. The way he always had in the past. Did this signal a change in his attitude? Was he at last going to deal with what had caused the breakdown in the first place?

Jane knew she had her own demons to deal with, but as she wriggled into a more comfortable position, letting him feed her half the omelette, she couldn't bring it in herself to care. They would deal with it later, she thought. Much later.

Oliver put the plate aside once they were done eating and began exploring Jane's spine with his fingers, causing her to shiver a little.

"Now, I saw something very interesting," he commented. "It seems somebody went and got themselves a tattoo."

Jane squirmed as his fingers walked up and down her spine.

"I got it in Ireland," she said.

"And what were you doing there?" he asked softly, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

She'd gone just to explore the country. She'd been in England, checking out their methods in forensic sciences, helping Nick Stokes who was studying forensic techniques. Dean had mentioned something about a Celtic legend and she'd wanted to check it out for herself, so she'd spent about a week in the country. While there, she'd talked to a woman who did tattooing and one had caught her eye. So she'd decided to get it tattooed at the base of her spine.

Oliver continued his gentle exploration with his fingers, tracing the tattoo, wondering what it meant. It almost looked to him like an arrow. Then Jane confirmed that it was.

"You got an arrow?"

She nodded. "It means warrior, but I just had the feeling that it was meant for me."

A tattoo wasn't something Oliver would consider for himself, but on her, it looked amazing.

"This was because of me?" he said, tracing the design again with his index finger.

"For Green Arrow," she answered softly.

Oliver turned her head to face his and kissed her. Jane moaned softly as his fingers traced feather-light strokes over her jawline. No one had ever done anything like that for him before, he thought. And if there was any proof that her feelings for him were real, that was it. He shook his head and sighed. He'd thought so badly of her. He knew he had a lot of making up to do where she was concerned, and if she'd let him, he'd spend the rest of his life doing that.

Jane sighed and cuddled close to him. He pulled her down in the bed and she fell asleep, curled comfortably into him. He stroked her soft skin for a while, listening to her gentle breathing until he fell asleep himself.

A while later, Oliver woke to find Jane lying on her stomach, facing away from him. Her dark brown hair was splayed over the pillow as she slept, her face in calm repose. Oliver ran his finger down her spine and she stirred. He did it again, pushing the bedclothes down to her butt.

Jane mumbled and stirred again, but didn't wake up fully.

He ran his hand down her spine again and she began making soft noises in response to his touch. He bent down to kiss the area between her shoulder blades, licking the smooth skin. That woke her up properly.

"Oh," she moaned.

He kept going, slowly kissing his way along her spine, stopping to lick certain places, while kneading her butt, separating the cheeks, watching in fascination as the movement changed the contours of the tattoo. Finally, he ran his tongue along the line between the cheeks, tormenting her as she whimpered and wriggled beneath him, lapping gently. He slipped his fingers underneath, stroking her.

"Mmmph," she said, mouth against the pillow. Oliver was determined to have as much fun with this as possible. He grabbed a pillow and thrust it underneath her belly so her hips were angled up. Then he dove between her legs, long tongue lapping as much of her essence as he could.

Jane began to whimper in earnest, wriggling even more as she became aroused. Oliver could feel her wetness increasing, fluid dribbling onto the sheet. He pulled himself up, manoeuvring himself between her legs and draping over her back as he positioned himself.

"Please," she muttered. He moved and she widened her legs to give him more room, thrusting her hips up slightly. "God, Ollie," she moaned. "Please."

He grinned, loving the way she begged for it. He kissed her neck and shoulders, moving his hand smoothly to her breast, squeezing it, drawing another whimper from her. She moved back to him, coming up a little more so she was almost on her knees, trying to force herself onto him. Ollie used his own knees to balance himself, his other hand on her waist to still her, then entered her. She gasped, body trembling in pleasure at the sudden intrusion.

Oliver took her hard and fast, feeling her scrabble for a hold on the mattress beneath. He grunted as with each thrust she cried out, tears flowing as the climax built, babbling incoherently.

"Oh Jesus," he cried out. She answered him with a long moan of her own. She shook violently as she came and he felt his own climax.

He collapsed, just barely with the presence of mind to fall beside her, pulling out, hearing her hiss as he did so. He pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her naked shoulder as her body rhythm slowly began to return to normal. She finally turned to face him, her dark eyes glittering.

"That was amazing," she said breathlessly.

He grinned, stroking her back. He'd never taken her that way before, but clearly she loved it. He kissed her, gently teasing her lips apart with his tongue.

"I love you," she whispered and he pulled her into his arms, letting her head rest on his chest.

"I love you too," he said, kissing her forehead.


	11. Chapter 11

Jane figured they'd played the avoidance game long enough. Sex, albeit amazingly, hot sex, couldn't fix what they'd both broken. So when Oliver woke, she prepared something to eat and made him get dressed.

"Bossy boots," he muttered. But he did as she asked, putting on a clean t-shirt and loose pants.

"We have to talk," she said.

Oliver sighed. He'd known this was coming. He'd hoped to avoid it, but he knew it would have to happen eventually.

Jane sat down in the little chair and Oliver sat on the bed, taking the plate of melon she handed him.

"Look, Oliver, this isn't going to be easy for me, so I'm going to come right out and say it. I'm sorry. For what I did to you. For the chance I took with your life. You were right. I should have told you the truth about what I was doing."

Oliver cocked an eyebrow at her. He hadn't expected this. Not a full out apology; but he listened.

"The thing is," Jane continued, then cleared her throat. "The thing is, when I made my plans, I took it all into account. I knew you and Clark would never be able to sit still and wait. So I planned for that."

"You mean because of my pathological need to act the hero?" he said flatly and she blanched.

"Oh god, Ollie, I didn't mean it like that, I swear I didn't. I just ... you ... I ..." She got up and came to him, taking the plate away before getting in between his thighs and carding her fingers through his hair.

"We so need to cut this," she murmured. "I liked it short."

"Getting a little off topic honey."

She sighed and dropped into his lap.

"I know. Look, I said a lot of things last night. And yeah, maybe I did mean them, sort of, but, oh, I don't know. When you're angry you say things you don't think you mean but ..."

"Deep down you do," Oliver finished. "I get it."

"It's just, I've been thinking a lot about this over the last year and, oh god, I just know you're going to take this the wrong way, and please don't misunderstand me, but the truth is, I never should have got involved with you."

He started, his grasp tightening on her waist.

"What?"

"See, I knew it," she said. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Janie, how could you ..."

"Ollie," she said, stroking his cheek. "The truth is, I wasn't emotionally ready for a sexual relationship. I'd gone from complete isolation in The Centre to my family and months of intensive therapy. I hadn't experienced, well, life. And there I was jumping into bed with you."

"Which you initiated," he pointed out.

She grinned. "Yeah, I did." Then she sobered. "But I didn't really understand what I was getting into. I mean, don't get me wrong. The sex was great. It always was. But I was falling in love without really understanding what that meant. I mean, the only example I had was Parker and Jarod. And I'm not saying it's a bad example, because I know they really do love each other. But I needed to see for myself, needed to understand the differences in human relationships."

Oliver pushed her off his lap and stood up, going to look out the tiny window of the cabin.

"I get it. I do. It was too soon."

Jane went to him, pulling his arms around her. "No, I don't think you do get it. Ollie, I want you to understand. You didn't do anything wrong. It was me. I was wrong. Emotionally I mean. You saw it, you even called me on it a couple of times. How I was always so cool around others. How I behaved differently. What I'm trying to say is that there were reasons I did what I did, why I didn't consider the full consequences of what I was doing."

"You didn't know any better," Oliver answered for her.

"It doesn't justify it," she sighed.

"No," he agreed. "But I should have known better than to hit out at you for it."

"You were hurt, and angry."

He let her go and moved back to the bed with a heavy sigh.

"Yes, I was. And part of me wanted to hate you. But the truth is, I couldn't hate you. No matter how hard I tried."

"Is that why you started drinking again? Doing all those things?"

"It's like you said. I tried to forget you. I thought the drink would help."

Jane knelt on the floor, looking up at him, her hand on his knee. So many dirty thoughts were going through his head when he saw her in that position, but she looked so earnest that he couldn't say what he was thinking.

"It didn't though, did it," she said. "It just made things worse. Ollie, why did you do all this? Why the suicide attempts? Why the drugs?"

"It wasn't just about you. It was everything. Jimmy, Clark. Lex."

"What about Jimmy?"

"I told Clark we needed to kill Davis."

"But Davis wasn't able to be killed, Oliver. I saw Emil Hamilton's test results on the blood Chloe gave him. The cells were continually mutating. You couldn't kill Davis."

"I didn't know that at the time. And I realised after everything that happened that Clark was right. The Phantom Zone was the best idea for him."

"And you blame yourself because that didn't happen? Because you argued? Friends disagree sometimes."

"He was angry at me. For what I did ... tried to do to Lex."

"Neither one of you knew about the clone. But let's get back to Jimmy. How is Jimmy's death your fault?"

"I don't know. I just feel that if maybe I hadn't turned on Clark ..."

"You tried something and it didn't work. But you are not the only one who made bad decisions then Oliver. You can't take responsibility for everyone else's mistakes. Clark shouldn't have let Chloe run away with Davis. He should have been more firm with his decision. And Chloe shouldn't have gone with Davis. She shouldn't have used the black Kryptonite. She should never have trusted Davis, especially when he believed he was in love with her. That wasn't love, it was obsession. And we both know that. Ollie, you played your part, let's not deny that. But you are not the only one who made a bad choice."

"What about Clark, then? What about when Lex kidnapped him. I was ... impotent."

Oliver sighed. He hadn't been the one to rescue Clark. He was just along for the ride. Even he could understand that. It had been Jarod who had rescued him when Lex had him. When Lex had almost killed him.

"Wrong choice of words baby," Jane grinned. "Besides, who says you were ... uh, impotent? Jarod wouldn't have known about the effect of Kryptonite on Clark if you hadn't told him. And who knows what I would have done if you hadn't controlled Lex?"

"What do you mean?"

"Lex could have ordered me to kill and I would have obeyed without question. I might have been having doubts but my fear of being punished for disobedience was far worse than the thought that I might actually have got myself killed. I was still under his control at that point. Don't forget that. Don't under-estimate your part in it."

"What about when you went after Lex. I was pretty useless then."

"I used you to make Lex think he still had me under his thumb. I've already apologised for my part in it."

Oliver turned away from her and Jane stared up at him. She got up from the floor and stood over him.

"Oliver, look at me. Do you feel responsible for me? For what I did?"

"Maybe if I'd taken more notice, things might have been different," he said softly.

"How? I was pretty clear in my own mind what I was doing. Do you really think you could have stopped me? I'm a Pretender, Oliver. I was trained to have a single-minded focus. Nothing you would have said or done could have possibly changed that."

"I didn't know that," he argued. "I didn't fully understand what you were."

"You are not responsible for the mistakes I made. And I did make them, Oliver. My biggest mistake was not trusting you. Not consulting you. But I've learned since then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. In fact, it took a guy named Michael Knight to make me see it. Before, I wasn't much of a team player. And he called me on my bull. Told me to stop acting like such a bitch and recognise that I'm not the only one trying to do the right thing."

Oliver snorted. "Funny, I can't imagine you taking that very well."

"I didn't," she chuckled, then bit her lip. "I, uh, slept with him."

Oliver rose. "You what?"

"Oh now, don't do that," she said, pushing him down again. "Don't make it sound like I've committed a cardinal sin just because I slept with some guy. Or two," she admitted. "Especially when you've slept with how many?"

"What are you saying?" he said with an unrepentant look.

"Pot, kettle," she said, waving her hand in a casual gesture."

"So, these guys you slept with, were they any good?"

"Oh yeah. Put it this way, Dean Winchester really knows his way around a woman's body. I mean the guy really likes women, you know?"

Oliver's face fell. Jane grinned unrepentantly. She leaned down and kissed him.

"I'm not going to lie and say that I wasn't satisfied. I mean, I was, in one sense. But not in the other."

"I don't follow."

"It was just sex, Oliver. It wasn't what we had. What we have. That's how I realised that I was completely, madly, in love with you."

"You had sex with another guy to ..."

"No, I had sex with another guy to try and make me forget you. But the truth is, I kept comparing them both to you and they both came up short. I mean, don't get me wrong. They're good friends now. But I didn't have the same, um, need, I guess, to be with them. Not like I was with you."

Oliver had finally caught up with something else she said.

"You're ... in love ... with me?"

"Completely," she repeated, moving to kiss him.

"Madly?"

"Insanely."

"Really?"

"There's no hope for me," she said as he pulled her onto the bed.

"Mmm, but what a way to go," he murmured into her neck as he began undressing her.

Jane tried to pull away. "Ollie, we're supposed to be having a serious conversation here."

He just pouted. "Less talk, more sex."

Jane had always found it hard to resist him when he put on that look. With a resigned sigh, she let him strip off her shirt and bury his nose in her chest.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a sex maniac?"

Oliver lifted his head and looked at her, incredulous. "Maniac?" He growled. "You take that back missy."

She giggled and shook her head. "Uh, uh."

He rolled over so she was now lying on the mattress, grabbing her wrists and pushing them above her head. Jane just giggled at him.

"You know I could get out of this in a second," she said.

"Really," he said. "Then try."

"I could so whip your ass right now," she bragged.

"Bring it on," he challenged.

Jane just had to prove her point, flipping them over so she was now on top.

"Mm, such a nice ass," she purred, moving to kiss him. Oliver grabbed her around the waist and picked her up, dumping her onto her back. Jane sent him a disgruntled look.

"What was that for?"

"I'm not done with your punishment," he told her. "I've a good mind to put you over my knee."

Jane scoffed. "Oh please, I'd like to see you try."

"That a challenge missy?"

Jane was loving this game. "Go ahead, if you think you're man enough."

Oh, she was going down!

"That does it!" He flipped her over onto her stomach, kneeling on the bed and pulling her into his lap. Jane squirmed beneath him, eyes daring him. Oliver raised his hand giving her two quick smacks on the butt. Jane shivered at the contact, then rolled away when he tried to do it again, quickly turning over and sitting up. Before Oliver could move, she had her hand on him.

"Aw, now that's just fighting dirty," he retorted.

Jane didn't say anything. She kept one hand on him through the loose pants while the other undid the drawstring. Her eyes were on him the whole time. Oliver knew she'd just tighten her grip if he tried to move away. That part of his anatomy that she had hold of had started to take on a life of its own. He couldn't have resisted this if he tried.

Still watching him, Jane pulled the waistband down, taking his length in her hand and feeling it pulse in her grip. He was already growing hard.

"Like to play rough?" she whispered.

"Janie," he said warningly..

Jane ignored him and slid back into a more comfortable position, bending down. Tongue darting out, she licked him in a slow, leisurely lick that had him jerking back.

"Janie," he moaned. Then he was slowly moving to give her more room, letting her push him onto his back on the bed as she straddled him. She bent her head once more and licked him again, taking more time to savour the moment

His moans quickly became guttural as Jane slowly took him all in. She hummed, loving his response from the vibrations in her throat. Usually at this point, she thought, his brain turned to mush, while his body's reactions became almost reflexive. Jane continued the slow pace, knowing it would frustrate him. She loved torturing him. Pretty soon, he would be making his own demands known.

And there he went, she thought as he thrust his hips up in clear demand. Jane smiled, and deliberately backed off. Oliver moaned in frustration. Jane continued laying kisses on the area between his legs.

"Brat!" he muttered.

She looked up at him. "Be nice," she tsked. She didn't have to threaten him. He uttered a small moan, almost a whimper as she slid his pants the rest of the way off and tossed them on the floor, then returned to sucking on his sensitised skin.

"God, Janie, please!" he begged.

Snickering, Jane continued teasing him, ignoring the hand on her head trying to guide her to what he wanted.

Damn, he thought. She had really learned a few things from those two guys. The thought of what she'd done with them had the power to make him insanely jealous. With a cry, he plunged over into the abyss.

It took him a few moments to recover, but as soon as he'd regained a modicum of control, he had Jane on her back.

"You are a very bad girl, Miss Jane," he tsked.

"What are you going to do about it?" she laughed in his face.

"Oh, I'll tell you what I'm going to do," he said, whispering in her ear. She looked at him wide-eyed.

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me," he grinned.


	12. Chapter 12

Oliver rolled away from her, searching for something he could use. When he saw the rag she'd used in her 'disguise', he figured it was perfect.

Jane was still lying on the bed as he knelt beside her, but her eyes widened as she saw the rag.

"Don't you dare!" she told him.

"Aww, now you should know better than to dare me," he grinned. He took one of her wrists and tied the rag around it, then pulled it up to headboard. Jane started to struggle in earnest as he secured her other wrist.

"Oliver,"she growled warningly.

"Don't you trust me?" he said.

"Right now? No!"

"Aw, come on Janie, you never know, you might actually like it."

Her eyes glittered as she lay there, unable to move, trying to pull at the knots, but Oliver wasn't about to let her up. He slowly pulled off the pants she was wearing, then slid his fingers underneath her panties. Jane immediately tried to pull away, but since he'd tied her hands to the bed there was nowhere for her to go.

Satisfied that she wasn't going to be able to resist him for long, Oliver straddled her legs, pinning them down as he leaned over to kiss her. Jane stubbornly tried to turn her head and he just laughed at her.

"You won't get out of it that way, Janie," he chuckled and she muttered a curse. "Aww, now that's no way for a lady to talk."

She just growled at him, but submitted to his kiss. He had a feeling he would be paying dearly for it, but he didn't mind. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue forward until she responded, her tongue battling with his for a moment. He let her have that one.

He began kissing down her body, pausing only now and again, not giving her what she demanded just by the movements of her body. It was time for him to have some fun, he decided, whether she liked it or not.

He deliberately kept it slow, knowing she'd be just as frustrated as he had been when she'd done it. Payback's a bitch, he thought, chuckling to himself. Jane bucked against him whimpering as he continued to play.

"Ollie, god," she moaned.

He continued. Jane was squirming on the bed, desperately trying to get back some control over the situation, but Oliver had tied the knots tight enough so that she wouldn't be able to get free. He gave an almost evil chuckle.

Jane sighed in frustration. He was playing with her, teasing her mercilessly. She desperately wanted to get out of the bonds, but he'd been clever with his knot-tying. Hmm, who knew he had a kinky side, she thought, determined to get him back as soon as possible.

He'd moved onto her belly, dipping his tongue in her navel. It tickled when his growing beard brushed against her skin. She was going to have to do something about that, she thought.

Oliver glanced at her. She was lying back against the pillows, eyes closed. He grinned. No matter what her earlier protestations were, she was enjoying this. He parted her thighs with his hand, separating the coarse hairs protecting her sex, rubbing his thumb on her as he continued to watch her. Her eyes sprang open and she gasped.

He continued rubbing, slowly inserting one finger inside her. She was already wet, the walls slick with moisture. He inserted another finger and she bucked, her back arching.

Jane gasped again as she felt his lips brush her. Oh, it's not fair, she thought. She had no control at all. He was very skilfully keeping her from fighting back, having immobilised her arms, and now her legs.

She was beginning to feel the familiar tingle as he thrust with just his fingers, each stroke making her ache with need.

"Ollie," she moaned.

She almost jack-knifed when he removed his fingers, only to replace them with his tongue instead. Jane struggled harder against the bonds, unable to stand the erotic sensations he was creating.

"No, no, no," she chanted, feeling the climax building. Then she gave in to the sensations, giving all control over to him as he took everything she had to give. Even then, he wasn't satisfied. Sitting up, he pulled her legs up to his shoulders, entering her at first with slow, shallow thrusts then building up the momentum, grunting with the effort.

Jane looked up at him, her dark eyes blurring with tears as each thrust hit her sensitive areas, again and again until her muscles tightened around him. Oliver grunted again, the sounds taking on almost a primitive quality as his own climax built.

When he finally collapsed against her, Jane didn't move, letting him get his breath back. Then she spoke plaintively.

"Ollie?"

"Yeah baby?"

"Are you going to untie me now?"

The sound was so plaintive and so small that they both started laughing. Then Oliver reached up and undid the knots, kissing the red line on each of her wrists where she'd struggled against her bond.

"I'm sorry baby," he said, kissing down her bare arm.

Finally free, Jane was able to pull him into her arms. "Hmm, you're going to be even sorrier when I get hold of some scissors and a blade," she murmured. "Because you so need to get rid of that beard, and that long hair."

Oliver's brown eyes widened as he looked down at her. "Hey, I like my hair long."

"Well, I don't!" she told him firmly. "And I told you you need to cut it. So I'm going to do it for you! Especially after that little performance."

"I think the operative word here is gulp!"

"Yeah, stew on that, rich boy."

He growled and pounced, tickling her.

"Oh no," she cried out, giggling. "Not the tickle torture, anything but that."

XXXXX

Several hours later found them both in the tin bath Jane had rigged up. Jane had joked that Oliver had begun to smell a little 'ripe' but he'd teased her back saying she just wanted to get him naked and wet.

Jane made him sit between her legs as she ran warm water over his body, washing his back gently so as not to open up the healing wounds. She pulled the tape off the small bandage she'd put over the gash. It was healing nicely, she thought.

"How is it?" he asked.

"It's looking good. It's not infected which means that herbal ointment I used on it has done its work. I'll be able to take the stitches out in a couple of days."

"What about the rest."

"Healing. A couple of them will scar, but the rest should disappear." She sighed and shook her head. "I could have killed them for what they did to you."

"I did it to myself," he admitted.

"You stood up for a little boy," she pointed out. "I saw the surveillance. I know what you did."

"But I knew Santelli would cheat. I practically handed myself to him on a silver platter."

"Why, Ollie? Why would you do something like that? It can't really have been all about the kids there, could it?"

He sighed and shrugged. Jane continued rinsing his back, then made him lie back. She had managed to get hold of some shaving cream and a straight razor from one of the local villagers not under Santelli's control. Smoothing the cream over his face, she looked at him.

"Do you trust me?" she said.

He nodded, watching as she picked up the sharp blade and began shaving him with small, careful strokes.

"So, talk to me," she said. "Tell me what's been going on."

"Where do I start?"

"How about when the Toyman tried to kill you?"

He told her how Jarod had come down and demanded he return to Metropolis. Then he told her about the moment of truth, when he'd decided to step off the steel plate.

"And you thought, this is it. Why, Ollie? Why did you want to do that to yourself? Or to your friends? The people who cared about you?"

"I just remember thinking how my father would have been so disappointed in me. For all the things I did. I mean, before I knew Lex was still alive, I remember how I was so angry that I would have done anything to get my hands on him, so I could kill him."

"Understandable. He'd tried to kill your best friend."

"It was more than that. I don't know."

"Remember when I asked you why you hated him?"

"I didn't know then. I still don't."

She was shaving below the jawline now and he kept still. Jane's movements were still slow and careful as she ran the blade over his skin, then dipped it into the warm water, making him turn his head as she shaved another area.

"Maybe you saw him as a reflection of yourself. And maybe that's why you wanted to kill him. Because he represented that dark side of yourself. Like, he's what you could be if you just gave in to that darkness."

Oliver thought about that for a moment. She was right. Of course she was, but then, she'd always been very perceptive.

"When I told Clark, he practically accused me of the same thing. Like I'd given up on all the things that made Green Arrow what he was."

Jane was done with the shaving. His face was now smooth and clean. Dipping her hands in cool water she rinsed his face. He hissed a little.

"Okay," she said, getting out of the tub and pulling him with her. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Oliver started to grumble about being perfectly able to take care of himself, until he caught sight of her wet, naked body. Damn, he thought, she was perfect.

He had a sudden image of Jane with a swollen belly and he wondered what she would be like if she was pregnant. Whoa, he thought to himself, where had that come from?

Being an only child, Oliver had always wanted a sibling, but now he was thinking how much he would love to be a father. He didn't know how Jane would feel about it. Did she even want to be a mother? He knew she loved kids by the way she was around her niece and nephew, but that was different.

Jane was looking at him and he remembered. She was waiting for him to sit down on the chair so she could cut his hair. She'd already put a t-shirt on over her nakedness and was holding out another towel to dry his hair. He sat on the chair and closed his eyes as she started towel-drying his hair. There should be nothing erotic about drying hair, but he was beginning to feel life stirring as she massaged his scalp. Damn, he thought, was there anything that didn't arouse him about her?

He opened his eyes as he heard her toss the towel away and grab the scissors and comb.

"Just a little off the top," he quipped. She growled good-naturedly, running the comb through his blonde locks and clipping here and there.

Should he ask her, he thought. Should he tell her what he was thinking? What if she said no? What if ... Damn it, he thought, grow some balls.

"You're looking very pensive," Jane mused. "What are you thinking about?"

For a moment, Jane wondered if he really was worried about her cutting his hair, but she'd done some reading and knew what she had to do. She'd liked his spiky look of before and was going to do her best to recreate it.

Then Oliver came out with something so unexpected it stilled her hands.

"Do you ever think about being a mom?"

Did she? She loved her niece and nephew, but was she ready to be a mother? What kind of parent would she be? She continued fussing with Oliver's hair for a moment.

"Janie?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I wonder what sort of parent I'd be. I mean, it's not like I've had any real experience of, you know, being part of a real family."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I guess I'm the same. I mean, I'd probably be a lousy dad anyway."

Jane stopped cutting and knelt in front of him.

"Oliver, any kid would be lucky to have you as a dad."

He shook his head. "Are you kidding? What sort of role model would I make, I can't even ... I'm not that good. I can't be that good."

Concerned, she reached up to him. "Ollie, where is this coming from?"

"Come on, Janie, you know what I was like as a teenager. School bully and all that."

"Yes, you were obnoxious, from all reports. But you've changed a lot since then."

"Have I?" he said, cocking his eyebrow questioningly. "Because I wonder sometimes. I mean, what if the real me is the guy who tried to kill Lex, and Green Arrow was the illusion?"

Jane went back to cutting, needing to finish. But she kept touching him, trying to offer him comfort as she analysed what he was saying.

"Ollie, why did you become Green Arrow?"

Why had he? Green Arrow had started after he'd been marooned on the island for two years. The family yacht, which he'd 'borrowed' to party on, had been hijacked, and subsequently shipwrecked by drug smugglers. The same smugglers who had eventually taken Mercy hostage, and discovered him on the island.

As a child, his father had started teaching him archery. Then Robert had been killed and Oliver thought he'd lost those skills. Until he'd been stranded for two years on that island. There, he'd honed his skills, using them to hunt food, to survive. When he'd finally returned to Star City, he'd seen people in his own social circle, profiting off the misery of others. He'd learned that a number of them bought valuable items off the black market. It had made him sick to think that they were basically encouraging theft just so they could get rare treasures.

So he'd decided it was time for payback. He'd donned the disguise, breaking into their homes, and stealing the items back, then blackmailed the owners with what he knew, forcing them to donate to charity. The valuable items were returned to their rightful owners.

"So, it was about revenge?" Jane didn't sound convinced.

"What else?" he asked.

Jane paused for a moment. "I think that you saw yourself as one of them, until you came back from the island. I think that time on the island made you realise that you were nothing but a spoiled brat who had it too easy. And you were wanting to prove that you were beyond that. But I think you also saw your so-called friends as being exactly the same and you wanted to teach them a lesson. But no matter how hard you try, they're never going to learn that way. And you know that."

"Janie, I was born with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth. I had everything I could ever have wanted. What made me so special? I mean, there are people, you know, rich people, who think that if they ever want something like respect, that all they have to do is buy it."

"You mean, people like Lex?"

Oliver thought about that for a moment. Jane should know when it came to Lex. When he'd bought the Centre, he'd bought her, lock, stock and barrel. He had owned her and because she hadn't known any different, he'd immediately bought her loyalty.

"Yes."

"So, what you're saying is, it doesn't mean anything because it's not earned? What about Clark? He respects you."

"Does he? I mean, should he? Look what I did to him." Jane knew he was talking about how he'd turned on Clark, shooting him with a Kryptonite arrow.

"Clark forgave you for that a long time ago. Especially after I made him see things from your point of view."

"I know you did, and I'm glad that you went into bat for me. But it doesn't change anything. Jimmy's still dead, Lex is ... insane, and I've achieved nothing. I thought being Green Arrow, I could make a difference. And I was wrong!"

Jane finally put down the scissors. She'd finished the cut. It wasn't exactly as it had been before, but it was pretty close.

She knelt on the floor in front of him.

"Ollie, you know what I think? I think somewhere along the way you lost sight of who you really are. And then you sought out trouble because you didn't think you deserved your life. You didn't earn all that money you inherited from your parents, you didn't earn the respect of your peers, so you didn't deserve it." She looked steadily at him, her hands on his knees. "Do you think I deserved what happened to me in The Centre?"

He gazed at her. "No," he said honestly.

"Do you think a poor kid living in the ghetto deserves that life? Deserves a parent who's an alcoholic, or a drug addict?"

"No."

"But the fact is, that's the life they're given. What matters is what they do about it. The choices they make. I mean, maybe, with me, I didn't have very many choices, because I didn't know anything about life outside The Centre. But you changed that. You, and Jarod and Clark. But what you did only went so far. Ultimately, the choice of what I did with that information was up to me. And me alone. Just like a kid in a ghetto makes the choice whether to be a drug addict like their father, or become something else."

"So, what you're saying is, I could choose to waste my life, or become someone people can respect."

"Not other people, Ollie. You. You have to respect yourself."

She sat back on her haunches, looking thoughtful. "Ollie, I think you need to see someone. A professional. Like Syd. I really think if you talked with him for a while, at least a couple of sessions, you might see yourself differently."

"I'm fine," he said. "I don't need my head shrunk."

She snickered, then sobered. "Ollie, you're not fine. The fact is, you've got a confidence problem and this is something that you can't handle alone. And I will be with you, every step of the way. I promise. You can trust Syd. He's very good at what he does."

Oliver was struck by the way she had analysed his situation so perceptively and he wondered if it was part of her Pretender skills. As if she'd absorbed some of the therapy she'd had.

"Seems like you've learned a lot from him."

"I have. But I've also had to do some serious self-analysing over the last year. You're not the only one who contemplated suicide, you know."

Startled, he stared at her. "What?"

She told him about the morning on the beach, and Sydney coming to find her.

"I think he knew," she said softly.

"Janie," he said, leaning forward, grasping her hand. "Why?"

"Because I knew I'd done something terrible. I had hurt you, I was hurting my family and I was so overwhelmed with all these emotions, that I didn't know where to turn. And Syd coming out when he did, he made me realise what I was doing. I mean, it didn't fix things straight away. I was pretty much a bitch for a few weeks after that, but you know, the thing about family is, at least they're honest with you if you're doing something bad."

"So that means you'll do the same for me?" he said. Jane knew what he meant. They loved each other. That made them family.

"Damn right I will. As long as you do the same for me."

Oliver pulled her up and into his lap. "I know something you can do for me right now," he drawled, letting her feel his erection, which had hardened while they had been talking.

"You have a dirty mind, Queen," she said, stroking his face.

"Ahh, you love it," he returned. She just grinned and kissed him.

"Queen," she whispered, "take me to bed or lose me forever."

"Are you quoting Top Gun again?" he asked, knowing it was one of her favourite movies. He'd introduced her to it back when they had been together a year ago.

"Hey, early Tom Cruise, who couldn't love that?"

"So you're saying you like short, brunet guys."

"Nah, I prefer blonde and six foot three," she drawled. Growling, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, lowering her down.

Some time in the night, Jane woke, disturbed by some sound. She glanced at Oliver, sleeping soundly, curled at her back. Suddenly, there was a crash and the door was flung open. Oliver woke with a start, sitting up quickly. Jane could only stare at the dark figures standing in the doorway, then another figure strode in. She recognised the voice immediately.

"Levántese, la ramera!" (Get up, bitch!)

Santelli.


	13. Chapter 13

Chloe mounted the steps up to the mezzanine floor and sat at the computer, moving the mouse to wake it up and clicked on the emails. Suddenly there was a whoosh of air and papers on the desk flew up, disturbed by the arrival of Superman.

Chloe glared at her friend. "Damn it, Clark, how many times do I have to tell you ..." But as her eyes fell on the cup he was holding, she forgot what she was going to say. Clark grinned and handed her the coffee without a word.

"Ooh, you are a lifesaver, Clark Kent," she said, sipping the coffee. The contents were still hot.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Good. So far, Broots has laid a number of false trails."

"This plan of Jane's better be foolproof."

Chloe looked at him. "Clark, relax. Jane knows what she's doing!"

"Yeah, but from what I hear, Jarod isn't too happy about it."

"Well, that's because he was expecting Jane to be back by now. They probably need a couple more days to lay low. I mean, Jane might have set it up so someone else takes the fall for Oliver, but it doesn't mean it will be easy to get across the border."

"I still would rather go down there and get them out," he told her.

"And you know what Jane said. One appearance from Superman and it will blow everything. We each have to play our parts, you know that. Jane isn't making the same mistake as last time."

"Sure, but does Oliver know that?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't he?"

Clark shrugged. "Maybe Jane just wants to protect him. I don't know. I really don't know a lot about what she does."

A beeping on Chloe's phone stopped her from commenting. She glanced at the text message.

_Tell that husband of mine he's got thirty seconds to get here or else he'll be sleeping on the sofa tonight._

Chloe grinned and looked up at Clark. "Uh, did we forget something?"

Clark frowned and thought for a few seconds. Then smacked his forehead. "Ah, no, she's going to kill me."

"What?"

"She's having the ultrasound today. Although why she has to have the scan I don't know. I mean the AI can do all of that."

"And it's standard hospital pre-natal procedure, Clark. Even if the baby's half-Kryptonian."

Clark groaned. "I better go before she decides I'm sleeping with Shelby."

Chloe just chuckled and glanced at her watch. "I'd say you've got about five seconds before she calls out the Green Berets to whip your ass."

Clark turned and left, upsetting more papers on the desk. Chloe quickly dived for them before more could end up on the floor.

Quickly changing into street clothes in the phone booth at the hospital, Clark made his way along the corridor to the examination room. Lois was lying on the bed, cursing his name as the doctor finished spreading the conductive gel onto her swollen stomach.

The doctor raised her eyebrow as Clark hurried in.

"The errant husband, I take it."

"Where have you been Smallville?"

"Uh, well, you know, I had ... um, stuff," he said lamely. Lois was always better at covering for him when he had to do his 'Superman' thing, but lately she had been grouchier than usual and refused to cover.

"So this 'stuff' is more important than the mother of your child?" she grumbled.

"Uh, Lois, honey, can we talk about this later?" In other words, his eyes told her, not in front of an audience. Inwardly, he was groaning. So he was a couple of minutes late for the ultrasound. It wasn't like he was missing the whole thing, but he just knew she was going to make him sleep on the sofa or something. Damn it, even Shelby got treated better than this, even if she was allergic to the dog.

Lois just scowled at him while the doctor began using the transducer on her. As she ran it over Lois' stomach, Clark and Lois fell silent, staring at the image on the screen. It was hard to make out but as the doctor pointed out their baby, Clark began to see the image for what it was.

"Oh my god," he breathed.

Lois had grabbed his hand and she was squeezing it. He looked back at her. She was completely entranced by the image on the screen, tears in her eyes. Clark had, of course, got a full work up from the AI when he'd taken Lois there a couple of times for Jor-El to scan her, but this was the first time they'd both actually seen a picture of the baby that really looked like a baby. The first scan, they hadn't been able to see much.

"Do you want to know the sex?" the doctor asked.

Clark deferred to Lois on this one. "Do we?" he asked.

Lois smiled – her first smile since he'd walked in the door.

"I want to be surprised," she told him. Clark nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze back, turning to the doctor and adding his quiet acquiescence. What Lois wanted, Lois got.

Clark helped Lois get dressed while the doctor went to get them a print out of the scan.

"I'm sorry I was late," he said softly. "I did forget the appointment." He kissed her gently on the cheek.

Lois frowned. "It's a good thing I sent Chloe the text then, isn't it? I knew you'd be there. I swear, ever since Jarod and Bruce started developing Watchtower you've been there more than you are at home."

"I know. It's just, with the Justice League and everything ..."

Lois' irritation showed on her face. "It feels like the Justice League is more important than me lately."

"Honey, that's not true! You know you're the most important thing in the world to me. I love you."

But Lois was not to be deterred. "It's because I'm fat isn't it?"

Clark groaned inwardly. Jarod had warned him about this. Parker had done the same thing when she'd been pregnant with the twins. It was normal for a pregnant woman to think she was unattractive, especially when it was getting toward the end of her pregnancy. Lois was now at twenty-six weeks. He sighed. The next fourteen weeks were going to be the longest.

"Lois, you know I think you're gorgeous. And you are not fat. You're pregnant."

She pouted. "Which means I am fat!"

Clark wanted to growl in annoyance but he was, thankfully, interrupted by the doctor bringing in the printout. He took the envelope and thanked the doctor, ushering his wife out the door and down the corridor to the exit.

Then Lois turned to him.

"Uh, Clark, how did you get here?"

"Flew. What else?"

"So you didn't drive?"

"No."

"So how are you expecting to get me home?"

Clark frowned. "So you didn't bring the car either?"

Lois snorted in frustration. "I'm six months pregnant, and bigger than usual at that. Tell me, how am I supposed to drive with this?" she said, pointing at her stomach.

"Uh, Lois, calm down, it's not the end of the world. We'll just catch a cab."

"Catch a cab? Catch a cab!"

Clark winced as she fairly screeched. He backed away from her. Then glared at her.

"What is it with you lately? You've been acting like a bitch, Lois. It's like I can't do anything right."

"Well, that's your fault," she told him. "You're the one who got me pregnant."

Clark wrung his hands in frustration. "You know what? Fine." He pulled some money out of his wallet. "Here. Get a cab home. I'm not in the mood to fight with you."

Lois could see he was about to take off when he blurred and changed into his Superman uniform.

"Don't you do it, Clark Kent!" She glared up at him as he hovered a few feet in the air. "Damn it, that is so not fair. You know I can't fly."

Clark found himself back at Watchtower where he found Jarod and Chloe in deep discussion. Chloe looked up and saw his stricken face.

"Clark?"

"Lois and I just had this massive fight and I just took off on her. God, I'm such an idiot!"

"So where is she?"

"I left her at the hospital," he moaned. "I just threw some money at her and told her to catch a cab."

Chloe nodded. "You and Lois seem to have been fighting a lot lately," she mused. She picked up her phone and dialled a number. "AC? Where's Victor?" She listened. "Oh, good. Listen, tell him to swing by the hospital and pick up Lois. Yeah, yeah, I know. But it'll be safer. Yeah, and don't forget the meeting. See you guys in an hour."

Clark looked at her. "What meeting?"

Jarod spoke up. "Justice League," he told him. Jarod's foundation was not an official member, but they did provide some of the research needed by the League from time to time and Jarod often sat in on meetings. "We need to discuss the situation in Colombia."

"Why? What's happened?"

Chloe picked up a photograph. It was of Jane and Oliver being led by guards into Santelli's compound. "We got this a couple of hours ago. They've been captured."

Clark stared at her and swallowed. Then looked at Jarod, who was trying to hide his concern for his sister, and not succeeding. Jarod was usually pretty good at hiding his emotions.

"This is bad, isn't it?" Jarod seemed evasive as he turned away, not looking at Clark.

"We should wait until the rest of the team get here." He looked kindly at Clark. "Now what is this about you and Lois?"

Clark sighed and flopped down on the big, comfy sofa.

"She's been a real grouch lately. And it's like everything I do is wrong. She knows I have to be Superman."

"Clark, she's six months pregnant. It can't be easy for her, since she is carrying your child." Clark started to say something but Jarod shushed him. "The fact is, that baby is carrying at least half your genes, which means there is a high probability of the baby having at least some, if not all of your powers. Plus the fact that she is bigger than normal. There are things happening in her body that she doesn't quite understand and probably doesn't feel very comfortable with and you need to be more understanding. I know you have your job as Superman, but Lois is bound to be a little more needy at this time."

"But Lois is never ..."

"I know Lois was brought up to be independent, Clark, but having a baby is hard on a woman. And no matter how tough they are, and how much they try to deny it, they need that extra reassurance. Parker was exactly the same when she was pregnant. And you know how tough Parker is."

Clark remembered from the stories he'd heard. How Parker had spent five years chasing Jarod up and down the country. The many times she'd pulled a gun on him. She'd hidden her own pain, her own emotions, behind a tough veneer.

Sighing, he realised Jarod was right. He'd forgotten about Lois' feelings about the pregnancy, so focused on how he was going to be a good dad, or at least the dad his own father was, when he had to divide his time playing the hero as well.

He didn't have long to wait before Victor showed up with Lois in tow. She was panting slightly from the climb up the stairs.

"You know, I could have carried you," Victor joked. Lois just smiled at him and Clark felt a sharp pang at the thought that Lois usually directed that smile at him. Victor looked his tall friend up and down. "Yo, Supes. What up?"

Clark looked down. He'd forgotten about his Superman uniform. Lois turned and looked in his direction and scowled. He quickly changed back into his street clothes, putting on the horn-rimmed glasses that formed part of his 'Clark Kent' persona. Lois relaxed a little, but not much.

Clark glanced at Jarod, who nodded, then took his wife gently by the arm and led her to the sofa so she could sit comfortably. He pulled her feet up from the floor and into his lap, taking off her shoes to massage her feet. He noticed that Jarod, Chloe and Victor had made a discreet exit.

"Lois, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did."

She sighed. "I have been acting like a bitch lately."

"Mm, but I had it pointed out to me that you're not exactly having the most easy time of things." He sighed. "I guess I didn't really consider how tough this must be for you. I've been so worried about what kind of dad I'm going to be that I never thought about your side of it."

"Clark, what are you talking about? You're going to be a great dad."

"Am I? I mean, what with me being Superman and everything. You're right, you know. I do spend too much time being him and less being, well, Clark."

Lois moaned as he continued rubbing her feet. "Oh god, don't stop doing that. It feels soo good."

"Are we okay?" he asked softly. "I know we've been fighting a lot lately. I just ... I didn't understand."

"Let me guess. Jarod?" she said, her hazel eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Well, he does seem to know a lot about it."

"Hmm, I remember when Jane did that demonstration on you. You know, when she made you see how Oliver was feeling?" She leaned back against the cushions. "Although I'm not sure I like the idea of Jarod analysing me that way. It feels kind of, I don't know, invasive?"

"Yeah, but honey, he's right, isn't he? I mean, he did tell me that the reason you've been so ... um, upset, lately is because, well, the baby is half-Kryptonian and I guess it's not the same as a human pregnancy."

"Well, I don't know, since I don't have anything to compare it to. I just know that I feel uncomfortable all the time."

Clark got up and sat behind her, massaging her shoulders.

"What can I do to make it easier for you?"

"Ooh, just keep doing what you're doing right now," she sighed contentedly. "I love your hands. You have such good hands."

He planted a kiss on her nose. Lois turned her head and tilted it so he could kiss her properly.

"I love you," he said. "And I'm sorry about our fight."

"Me too," she said, snuggling against him, closing her eyes. Within minutes, she had fallen asleep. Clark just grinned down at her, his hand going protectively to her stomach. The baby responded to the caress, kicking against the inner walls of Lois' belly.

"Shh," he whispered. "Mommy's sleeping." The baby stopped moving, as if it had heard him.

A short while later, Chloe and the others came back downstairs. Clark, still supporting Lois as she slept, put a warning finger to his lips. Jarod grinned at Clark and nodded. The moment was spoiled, however, with the arrival of Impulse.

"Yo, Stretch," he said loudly. Clark groaned, feeling Lois stir beside him.

"Thanks a lot, Bart."

"Hey, sorry man, didn't mean to wake your old lady," he grinned.

"Who are you calling old?" Lois grumbled, sitting up. She looked up at Clark, twisting her neck and he kissed her. She smiled, opening her mouth and thrusting her tongue in, deepening the kiss.

"Hey, get a room," Bart grumbled. But it was forgotten as he saw Chloe. "Hey, gorgeous. Got any food in this joint?"

Chloe just glared at him. "Why am I not surprised to discover you're hungry Bart?"

Bart grinned unrepentantly. "I'm a growing boy." He looked up at Jarod. "Hey, J-man."

"Never call me that," Jarod growled.

Bart stepped back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Whoa, don't mean to tread on your toes there, old man." Jarod just continued growling. His phone rang, and Bart lifted his eyebrows. "Saved by the bell," he said.

Jarod looked at his phone. "Honey? What is it?" He listened. "Okay, put him on the phone. Kyle? How many times do I have to tell you to stop teasing your sister." He wandered away toward the stairs, but his voice was raised so the others couldn't help hearing. "No, Kyle, it is not funny. How would you like it if Catie tried to flush one of your toys down the toilet? Yeah, now you understand? Good. Because you're grounded for the next week. And don't grumble or I'll make it two weeks. And it's no good going to your mother for sympathy either. Kyle, one more word and I'll make it a month. Which means no tv, no computer and no after school activities either. You hear me?"

Clark couldn't help grinning. He looked at Lois, who was patting her stomach and trying to hold back the laughter. He kissed her cheek.

Jarod came back to them and grinned sheepishly. "Kids," he said. He glanced at Lois and Clark. "You're lucky it's only one. God knows, I love my kids, but twins – double trouble."

The doors opened and Bruce walked in, followed by AC, Dinah Lance and John Jones. Despite not having his powers, the former Martian Manhunter was still a fully fledged member of the Justice League. He hadn't met Jarod before and immediately made a beeline for him.

"Jarod, I have heard a lot about you. Particularly from some of my friends in the Justice Department." The two men shook hands.

"Jane has told me a lot about you detective," Jarod replied. "She speaks very highly of you."

Bruce quickly interrupted them. "Enough of the mutual admiration society," he said. "You called this meeting, Jarod."

Jarod nodded. He sat down on one of the sofas, indicating the rest should sit down.

"As you know, Jane is currently in Colombia, on a retrieval mission."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Yes, we know you sent her there to bring back Oliver. What of it?" He was clearly no fan of Oliver's.

"It's not Jane's only mission. She was there to gather information about a drug baron by the name of Santelli. She was pretending to be a contractor for Intergang, looking for new sources of drug supply for the streets of Metropolis."

"And?"

"Jane and Oliver have been captured by Santelli," Chloe told Bruce, handing him the photo. "Now, we're not sure if this is part of Jane's plan."

"Why would Jane plan something like this?"

"Because Santelli has been using young children as workers on his drug manufacturing. She wants to get them out."

"If Jane is on a fact-finding mission, why would she risk herself with this?"

Clark looked at John and answered his question. "Because of what was done to her in The Centre."

"If there's one thing we both can't stand," Jarod told them, "it's the thought of children being abused in any way, shape or form. Now, Jane has already asked for the Justice League not to interfere. She's afraid that it could only make things worse by drawing attention to the situation."

"So why are we here?" Bart asked, his mouth full of corn chips which he crunched noisily.

Bruce had been sitting quietly since his initial outburst, but he appeared to have been analysing the situation.

"Jarod's afraid that Jane's in over her head with this one. He wants us to back her up in case things go wrong."

For the first time, Lois spoke up. "Is it because you don't trust her, Jarod? Or something else?"

"What do you mean?"

"We all know how hard it was for Jane when she first left the Centre. And she was almost killed six weeks ago."

"That is not the point."

"Isn't it? Jane hasn't always been very good at the emotional stuff. The only reason she went down there in the first place was because it's Oliver. We know how she feels about him. Judging from the phone call we got the other day, Oliver still feels the same way, and I don't think it's Jane calling the shots in this one. Jane's smart enough to know when a situation looks bad," Lois pointed out. "And if things are as bad in Colombia as you suspect they are, then she would have known there wasn't much she could do by herself."

"You're thinking Oliver's convinced her to go back in? Why? Why would he do that?" AC asked. "It's suicide."

Clark looked at AC. "And we're all well aware of Oliver's frame of mind for the last few months."

"You're still assuming something without looking at the facts," Bruce told Clark. "We don't know what's been happening since Jane went down to Colombia."

"Jane should have been back by now," Jarod said. "The only reason she had Broots set up those emails was to give Oliver some protection from Santelli. Make it look as if another drug lord had him as a bargaining chip with Intergang. The fact that Santelli has captured them both makes me think that either Jane has something else planned, or something has gone badly wrong."

"We still can't get involved," Bruce told him. "We're the Justice League."

"And have you even considered the fact that Oliver knows all about the Justice League? If Santelli questions him, he may end up telling him all about us," Clark returned.

For the first time, Chloe spoke up.

"Why are we even arguing about this? I think you guys need to wait it out. You need to trust Jane. She's been in bad situations before."

"And the last time she was almost killed Chlo."

"I know that, Lois, but Jane's a smart woman. If she needs help, she'll find a way to tell us. We have to trust that."

None of them liked that idea, but Chloe was right in one sense. They had to trust that Jane knew what she was doing. Clark sighed. He just hoped that Jane and Oliver would make it out in one piece.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

They were marched into a small room at gunpoint, hands tied behind them. Santelli sent his men out of the room. Then he slapped Jane hard on the cheek screaming in rapid Spanish.

"You bitch! Did you think I wouldn't find out? I talked to Guiterrez. He denied everything. He says he knows nothing about Intergang."

"Of course he'd say that," Jane said coolly, in spite of the fact her cheek was stinging sharply. "He's your biggest rival. Why would he want you to know he's trying to negotiate a deal with Intergang?"

"And him?" Santelli sniffed, gesturing toward Oliver who was silent.

"A bargaining chip."

"One you were sleeping with!"

Jane shrugged. "Any port in a storm," she grinned. Oliver looked as if he understood what she'd said and he glared at her, an expression of outrage on his face.

"You bitch!" he said. In English.

Santelli just smirked at him. And answered him in English.

"Now you see, Senor Queen, just what she is. A lying, conniving bitch."

Jane glanced quickly from Oliver to Santelli, but she said nothing. Just glared at the man, who looked her up and down derisively.

Santelli snorted and turned on his heel, going out. Jane sighed, licking at the area where she could feel her lip swelling. She'd bitten it when Santelli had slapped her.

"Well, this is another fine mess you've gotten me into."

Oliver stared at her, incredulous. "Me? You know you didn't have to come down here."

Jane snorted. "Yeah, right. And leave you to fend for yourself? Huh! Like you've done so well for yourself so far."

"No one asked you."

"I had to!" she retorted.

"You mean you were paid to!" he snapped.

"That's right! I was! And believe me, I wasn't paid enough to put up with your crap! It's because of you we're in this mess!"

"Oh yeah, right, blame me!'

"Well, it's the truth now, isn't it?"

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

The door was flung open and one of the guards came in, yelling in Spanish at them to shut up or he would shoot one of them. Suddenly, Jane stood up from where she had been sitting on the chair, her hands free as she grabbed the man, quickly incapacitating him with a knee to the stomach. Wind knocked out, he doubled over. Oliver followed it up with a hit on the back of the neck. The guard quickly went down.

Jane grabbed the man's gun and grinned up at Oliver.

"Now that was inspired," she said. "I'll make a Pretender out of you yet."

"I think I'll stick with the day job," Ollie grinned. "Damn, you are good. I almost believed you."

Jane grabbed him and kissed him hard on the mouth. "Believe that," she said. "Now let's go. We're not out of the woods yet."

Oliver followed her without a word.

_HOURS EARLIER_

_Jane was lying awake, curled in Oliver's arms. He shifted in the bed and made a small noise._

_"__What?" she asked, stroking his bare arm._

_"__Nothing. I just ... I don't want to leave here without doing something about those kids." _

_"__Like what?"_

_"__I don't know. I'm just ... " he sighed. "I couldn't stand to see those kids abused like that."_

_Jane rolled over so she was lying on top of him._

_"__And you're telling me that Green Arrow was the mask? Are you hearing yourself right now? Ollie, you've just proved why you became Green Arrow."_

_He half smiled. "Yeah, maybe you've got a point."_

_"__So, what do you want to do about it?"_

_"__I know I'd like to hit that son of a bitch where it hurts."_

_"__I hear a but."_

_"__Well, you know what that place is like."_

_She nodded. "There's at least twenty men on the compound at any given time. It would be like walking into a trap."_

_"__It would be suicide," he agreed._

_Jane thought about this for a moment. "Not necessarily," she told him._

_"__You have an idea?"_

_"__Well, I mean you're right. Santelli is abusing those kids, forcing their parents to sell them into slavery. And you know how I feel about that."_

_She'd told him about the little girl who had been beaten to death at fourteen after becoming involved in child porn and prostitution and how she had taken down the man responsible in Las Vegas. Oliver's arms tightened a little around her as he thought about how angry she would have been._

_"__So ..."_

_"__So," Jane continued, "what if we do walk into the trap and spring a trap of our own?"_

_"__Is this the Pretender working?"_

_She nodded. "You're going to need to pull out some decent acting skills though. Because I have an idea how to get one guard to come running. All you need to do is react to what I'm saying. Even if it hurts. I mean, you'll know I don't mean it, right? But you have to act like it hurts. Can you do that?"_

_He nodded. "Just tell me what you've got in mind."_

_Jane got up and pulled on some clothes. Oliver watched her as she hunted in the cabin for what she needed, pulling out two small cutting wires. She then showed him what she had in mind, inserting them in the waistband of a pair of pants for her, and one for him. That would help them get free if their hands were tied behind them._

_As the hours passed, Oliver began to see Jane's plan forming. They examined the map she'd created of the compound and discussed where they would go and what they would do at each location. Jane showed Oliver the devices she'd planted and how they were hooked into Santelli's surveillance. They were there to gather evidence, but now the two of them planned to use them to take down Santelli and pressure the Colombian government into action against drug lords. _

Once out of the room, Jane ran along the corridor. It wasn't long before they ran into another of the guards. He was standing at the end of the corridor, looking the other way, but as soon as he heard them he turned, opening his mouth to yell out. Oliver dashed ahead and hit the man square in the jaw, knocking him to the ground and grabbing the man's semi-automatic.

Jane grinned at him. Now this was teamwork, she thought.

They both knew it wouldn't be long before the alarm was raised, but they had their escape route planned. Together, they made their way to the outer door of the complex. Jane knew it was a matter of time before Santelli would come out of his villa in a rage at their escape.

The door led to the compound. Oliver looked at Jane when he saw at least a dozen men outside. She nodded. It would be okay. They had planned for this. Crouching low, Oliver led the way, using whatever was on the compound to give them shelter and keep them hidden from the men exercising or patrolling.

Slowly, they inched their way to the main building where Santelli manufactured the drugs. Jane knew there would be people working in there and she needed them out before she could carry out her plan. There wasn't much time. She continued following Oliver to the outside wall of the building. He looked at her, then slipped around the side. Jane waited a few seconds, then followed, searching for the window which would let her in the building without being detected by the guards. There were at least two of them on the floor, watching the indentured workers. Santelli was arrogant enough to think that he had the workers controlled by fear. Most of them had nowhere else to go anyway, Jane thought.

Oliver was waiting for her, helping her up the wall and through the window. He glanced around. So far so good. It had been less than five minutes since they'd escaped, which meant it hadn't been detected yet. It was just as Jane thought. Santelli might think his people were loyal to him, but they all hated him, and Jane had realised why when she'd toured the complex. For every one of his employees, guards and indentured alike, their lives were held to ransom.

Once inside, Jane sent Oliver to tell the workers to get out. He knew the rudiments of the language, but the gun he held would say it so much better.

As soon as the workers were forced out, chaos erupted in the compound. Guards everywhere began yelling in their language, asking what was going on. Then Jane came running around the side of the building, only to be caught by one of the guards. She pulled out her gun, but to no avail. She was quickly surrounded and forced to kneel on the ground, hands on her head. The workers, meanwhile, were rounded up and made to stand and watch proceedings as Santelli came striding out of the house.

He spoke to Jane in English.

"Where is the other one?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. Got separated."

He glared up at his guards. "Find him." Then Santelli took one of the handguns from the guard nearest Jane and held it, pointing it at her head.

"Who are you?"

"Someone who thinks people like you should never see the light of day."

"What?"

"You really are as dumb as you look, aren't you Santelli? You think I don't know what you've done to those people?" She nodded at the assembled workers, who looked terrified, thinking what was about to happen. "You destroyed their livelihoods so you could force them to work for you. Sell their children into slavery. And for what? Just so you could manufacture drugs, and then destroy more kids? Well, I figured I would destroy your livelihood."

"Without me, these people are nothing. You cannot destroy what I have. It is the only thing keeping these people alive."

"Without you, these people are free," Jane shot back. "And I'm sure they'd survive without having to expose themselves to dangerous chemicals every day."

"I admit, you had me fooled," Santelli.

Jane shrugged. "Well, that's what I do." She saw his puzzled expression. "You ever hear of Pretenders, Santelli?"

He shook his head.

"We can be anything we want to be. You wanted a foothold in the States. So I pretended to be the instrument, the very thing you thought you needed."

"There is no deal with Intergang?"

"Ah, now you've caught on," Jane grinned evilly.

Santelli cocked the gun. "You are a fool, woman."

Jane showed no fear as he pressed the gun to her temple. His finger tightened on the trigger. Just as it looked as if she was going to be shot, a huge explosion rocked the complex. A figure in green leather stood atop one of the other buildings, holding a bow and arrow. Jane turned her head and grinned at the figure.

Santelli was still prepared to shoot, but Green Arrow was equally prepared. He pulled a small arrow out of the quiver, aiming carefully and let fly. The arrow hit Santelli's wrist, forcing him to drop the gun.

"Ahh!"

Jane cheered inwardly, but she knew it wasn't over yet. She grabbed the gun from where Santelli had dropped it. He was too busy nursing his wrist to care. Green Arrow let a flaming arrow fly. It landed on the ground, at first looking like he had missed, until the ground ignited. A circle of flame slowly began to surround the main building. Santelli's men panicked.

Jane stood up and fired the gun aloft. They were all distracted by the noise.

"Stop," she said in the language they understood. "Now you've got two choices here. You can go down with him, or you can be free. If you choose the latter, drop your weapons right now."

They all hesitated, looking fearfully at Santelli. Jane pushed him over where he was whimpering.

"Look at him. Look at this pathetic creature." She held the gun to his head. "I bet if I shot him right now, none of you would lift a finger to help him." She turned to Santelli and continued speaking in their language. "Go ahead. Tell them what you did to them. Tell them how you destroyed their lives and forced them to work for you. Tell them how you ruined their crops, forced them into debt, knowing they would have no choice but to come to you. Tell them how you manipulated them."

"It's true, it's true, god," the man sobbed, a pathetic shell from what he was.

"And what else," Jane said, noticing that the men were slowly dropping their weapons and glaring at Santelli.

"I bribed government officials to look the other way, manipulated them into illegal activities and used the knowledge to blackmail them so I could manufacture the drugs in peace. Please, help me."

"Help you?" Jane scowled. "Look at yourself."

Oliver had joined her by now. Jane smiled up at him. He grinned. Now this was more like it.

He'd almost been mad when she'd revealed his Green Arrow costume, which she'd kept carefully hidden, until she told him that she had faith in Green Arrow.

_"__You knew all along, didn't you?"_

_"__That Green Arrow was still inside you or that you wouldn't be able to resist a little revenge?"_

_"__Both," he said, pulling her into a hug._

_They'd planned together what would happen, sneaking out in the middle of the night to put their plan into action. The Green Arrow costume and equipment was hidden in a secure location where Oliver would be able to get to it easily. Once the workers were safely out of the building, Jane would distract the guards long enough for Oliver to get the gear and fire off the arrow which would set off the explosion. Jane had timed everything perfectly._

Oliver looked at his girlfriend now. He envied her that ability to be able to read people so well, but he realised now that he had made his own contribution to this. They had worked together to bring Santelli down and it had succeeded.

Within hours, they were on their way back to the States, having alerted the authorities. The Colombian government officials, at first annoyed that Jane and Oliver had done what they themselves had been powerless to do, decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. They had agreed to work with the US authorities to clean up the drug cartels.

When Oliver and Jane finally arrived in Metropolis, they immediately reported to Jarod who just sighed and shook his head. He'd seen all the footage.

"You were supposed to get information and get him out," Jarod told his sister.

"Ah, come on, Jarod, you and I both know that you would have done the same thing."

He continued to sigh and shake his head, but Jane just grinned at Oliver. They both knew Jarod would have done exactly the same. He might have planned it differently but he'd have done it just the same.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Hand in hand, they left the building knowing they wouldn't be able to get some time alone together for a while. Clark had already been alerted to their return and they made their way to Watchtower. Bruce was working with Chloe on a small project and he looked up.

"So the prodigal returns," he said.

"Bruce," Oliver said shortly. Jane's hand tightened in his and he looked at her. Don't start a fight, she begged silently.

"So it looks like the Justice League wasn't needed after all," Bruce replied.

"I told Jarod not to interfere," Jane said.

"Huh, and you go in and risk your neck, and for what?," Bruce admonished sharply.

"It was a calculated risk, if I know Jane," Chloe said. Jane smiled at her. Chloe stepped out from her desk and walked over to Jane. The two women hugged. "I'm glad you made it out okay."

Jane grinned. "Was there ever any reason to doubt it," she said.

Chloe grinned back, aiming a light punch at Oliver's shoulder. "Knowing this guy, yeah."

"Hey," Oliver protested. Jane just laughed at him. The two women left the two men to glower at each other while they went off to the kitchenette to hunt out some food for an impromptu party.

Chloe looked at Jane as they began looking through the cupboards for chips and making up dip.

"You know, we should call Clark and get him to get some supplies," Jane said.

"I can call Bart."

Jane grinned. "You want any food left by the time he gets here?"

Chloe laughed. "You might have a point." She grabbed the phone and dialled. "Clark? Yeah, can you do us a favour?" She told him what they needed. He just laughed. Chloe hung up the phone after telling him what to get and looked at Jane, who was busy mixing some guacamole. She had a glow about her that was so different from when she'd left.

"You look really good," she commented.

Jane looked at her. "You think so?"

"Actually," Chloe said, glancing at Oliver through the gap in the wall, where he was talking quietly with Bruce, and at least trying not to argue, "you both do."

Jane smiled. "I feel good."

Chloe watched as she looked at Oliver and her whole aura changed. She knew what it was now. Jane was in love! And as Oliver spotted her watching him, he smiled – a huge smile which lit up his whole face. Chloe realised what had happened in Colombia. They'd rediscovered each other. He was as much in love with Jane as she was with him.

Jane saw her watching and smiled. "We still have a little ways to go," she said. "Oliver still has some things he needs to work out, but yeah, he's back."

Clark arrived shortly after with food. Lois appeared a short time after that, escorted by Bart, who was acting the goat as usual. Chloe had to quickly shield the food when he started eyeing it, or rather, leering might be a better term, she thought with a grin.

Jarod and Parker came in and Jarod was clearly not happy with his sister for having gone off the job specifications. Until Parker sharply reminded him that it was something he would have done himself.

Oliver had his arm around Jane as they laughed and talked about their little adventure in Colombia. It was clear to everyone in that room that they were very much in love.

When Jane went to talk to Lois, who was resting on the sofa, he grabbed Chloe.

"Hey, I need to ask a favour," he said.

"Sounds ominous," Chloe cracked.

"Funny," he said. "No, I'm serious. I need you to come shopping with me."

Chloe raised an eyebrow at him. "Shopping?"

"For an engagement ring."

He'd thought of nothing else since they'd left Colombia. He'd sat on the plane next to his girlfriend wondering how she would feel about it if he proposed. Then he started thinking about how he would do it.

Chloe gasped delightedly. "Ollie, I'm so happy for you. That's great!"

"I haven't asked her yet!"

"She'll say yes, I know she will."

"You really think so," he said, a little wave of doubt crossing his face. "I mean, she has a different life and I ..."

"Ollie," Chloe said, putting a hand on his arm. "Jane loves you. I can see it in her face. She's the happiest I've ever seen."

"I made a huge mistake in letting her go before," he admitted.

"Well, now's your chance to correct it. And yes, I'll help you find the perfect ring."

Jane, still chatting with Lois, happened to glance over at Oliver and Chloe. "I wonder what those two are conspiring about," she said to Lois.

"Mm, knowing Ollie, it can't be good. Hey, did you know Chloe and Bruce are dating?"

Jane looked at Lois. "I did kind of get that vibe. Has she ..."

"She's been kind of skittish about it. You know, after Jimmy ..."

Jane nodded. "I notice she's been more absorbed in work. It's not good for her."

"Says the woman who's been doing nothing but work for the last year."

"Until I got shot," Jane reminded her. "That kind of opened my eyes a bit, made me realise what was important."

"Hmm, like a certain blonde-haired archer?" Lois chuckled.

Jane laughed. "Don't I know it."

"So what are your plans now?" Lois asked.

"I don't know. I mean, I still have my job. Unless Jarod decides to fire me for that little escapade in Colombia."

"He wouldn't, would he?" Jane chuckled.

"Nah!" She sighed. "I don't know. I was sort of thinking of asking Ollie to get married. I mean, is it okay for a woman to ask?"

"I don't see why not." Lois suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. She put a hand on her belly.

"You okay?"

"The baby's moving. He just kicked me in the back and it hit a nerve."

"Ouch," Jane said in sympathy. "You'd think he'd have a little consideration. Is it a boy?"

"Actually, we don't know. The ob-gyn did offer to tell us but I said no." Lois' eyes widened. "Oh my god, Clark and I had this huge fight. And it was over nothing, really. God, I've been so mean to him lately."

"I'm sure you don't mean it," Jane soothed.

"No. But I so need to make it up to him."

"Honey, you're pregnant. He understands. I mean, look at you, you're gi-normous."

"Gee, thanks," Lois said sarcastically.

"Oh sweetie, I don't mean it like that. It's just – well, you are bigger than a woman normally would be at six months. And it can't be comfortable for you."

"You're right, it's not." She sighed. "Still, he was right when he said I'd been a real bitch lately."

"And he shouldn't have said that," Jane protested. "You know, I wish men could get pregnant. Then they'd understand what you have to go through."

"You ever thought about having one of your own?"

Jane looked at seriously. "You know, it's funny, Ollie sort of said the same thing. When we were talking. And I did think about it for a minute. But I don't know. I mean, what kind of mother would I be. I haven't exactly had any example of parenting to go by, you know?"

"Neither have I," Lois pointed out. "Look at how the general raised me. It was more like he was commanding troops rather than raising daughters."

"Speaking of the general, how is he?"

"Well, he and Clark still don't get along. And he really hates Superman."

"You haven't told him then?"

Lois shook her head, rubbing her belly again. "We figured given how he feels about the big blue Boyscout, we'd rather not."

Clark came and sat with them. "What are you girls talking about?"

"The general," Jane told him, ignoring the flash of warning from Lois. Clark just rolled his eyes.

"Uh-huh," he said.

Lois stretched and Jane noticed she was looking tired. She had shadows under her eyes. "Well," Jane said, "I'm really beat. I think I'm going to drag Ollie away from my brother before Jarod considers recruiting him and call it a night." She glanced at Clark and he got the hint.

"Mm, me too," he said, exaggerating a yawn. "I'm tired. You, Lois?"

Lois looked at the two of them and scowled. "Okay, I get the hint. I'm looking tired."

"Well, I really am tired," Jane told her. "We did just get in from Colombia a few hours ago and I'm jet-lagged." She pulled Lois into a hug, then gave Clark a brief hug before standing up and joining Oliver, who had been chatting to Jarod.

She caught the tail end of the conversation and realised Oliver was asking Jarod if he could borrow Sydney's services for a while. Jarod agreed. He clearly understood what Oliver was asking.

"Hey," she said, putting her arm around her boyfriend's waist. "I'm tired. Let's call it a night, huh?"

"We still have some things to discuss," Jarod told her.

"Honey," Parker said, touching his arm. "They're exhausted. Let them go home and get some rest, okay?" She turned and winked at her sister-in-law and Jane grinned back. Pulling on Oliver's arm, she quickly said goodbye to Chloe and the rest of the League, dragging him out.

They finally got to the apartment in the clock tower twenty minutes later. Jane flung her arms around his neck.

"Alone at last," she grinned.


	16. Chapter 16

"You are a little minx," Oliver said as she kissed him.

"Why?" She pouted.

"Don't give me that look, Miss Jane. It won't work on me."

She dropped her lip even further until he growled, picking her up. Jane locked her legs behind his back as he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. Well, it was theirs, now, he thought, because there was no way he was letting her get away now.

He tossed her on the bed, thanking whatever deity existed that someone had kept things clean in the apartment the months he was gone. Jane looked at him expectantly and he climbed on, straddling her as he kissed her back with fervour. At the same time, he began undoing the buttons on her blouse. Jane's hands worked busily at his shirt. It became almost a competition between them to see who was faster. Jane got there first, her hands splaying on his chest.

Oliver glanced down at those nimble fingers.

"So not fair," he said. "You're wearing more than me." He pointed out the fact that she was wearing a bra, which made it an unfair competition as far as he was concerned.

"Aw, poor baby," Jane crooned. That just made him growl more in frustration. Jane chuckled and decided to help him out by undoing the hooks on her bra and tossing the garment on the floor. "Is that better?"

Oliver buried his face in her breasts. "Much," he mumbled, his tongue licking her skin. Jane arched her back, bringing herself closer to him. She lay back, letting him have his way. It wasn't long before his hand was reaching for the zipper on her jeans, his mouth still busy at her breasts.

Jane did the same with his own jeans.

They quickly disposed of each other's clothing, beyond caring where they landed as they threw them away. Jane was already impatient – too impatient for more foreplay. Since they'd left Watchtower, all she had been able to think about was him.

Mouth still busy with her breasts, Oliver didn't sense her impatience until she almost threw him off.

"Ollie!"

"Yeah baby?" He looked at her and her eyes told him what she wanted. He started to reach for the side table to get out condoms, then remembered she'd told him she was on the pill in Colombia. Which was just as well, because he hadn't used any protection with her there.

Jane thrust her hips up, signalling just how ready she was. He slid his hand to her sex. She was already so wet for him, slick with moisture, and she moaned as he pressed his thumb on her.

Propping himself up so as not to squash her, he entered her, hard and fast, just the way she liked it when she was this hot. She gripped him like a vice, still tight, in spite of all they had done for the past week.

"Oh god!" she cried out.

"No, just me," he grinned, and that was the last coherent thing he was able to say as he started to thrust in earnest. His mind began to white-out, reducing him to grunts and moans as Jane flipped them over and she rode him hard. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and it almost seemed like he blacked out for a moment as she squeezed him.

Panting, Jane collapsed against his chest. Oliver was breathing just as hard, perspiration on his forehead. Oliver opened his eyes and looked at her tenderly.

"I love you," he said.

Jane kissed him softly. "I love you too," she told him. Held tight in his arms, she sighed softly and put her head down, against his shoulder. Exhaustion overcame both of them and they fell asleep that way.

The ringing of the phone woke them up the next morning. Jane yawned and reached for it, almost throwing it off the table as she groped around.

"Mmm?"

"Jane, we had a meeting this morning. Or did you forget?" Jarod sounded pissed.

"What time is it?" she mumbled to her brother.

"It's after ten."

She sat up suddenly. "Shit!" She looked at Oliver, who was blinking sleepily. "We slept in."

I'll say you did," Jarod grumbled. "Get your ass over here. The crap has really hit the fan in Colombia and we need to do some damage control."

Jane sighed. She was in for it now, she thought. Hanging up the phone, she pushed back the bedcovers. Oliver grumbled. She looked at him, contrite.

"Sorry honey. Jarod's in a mood and I've got to get out of here."

"What's happened?"

"I don't know. But it doesn't sound good."

"Want me to come?"

Jane looked at her boyfriend lovingly. "Oh honey, I'd love it if you would, but you've got things you need to do too, remember?"

The annual general meeting of Queen Industries was coming up and he needed to do his own damage control. Jane leaned over and planted a kiss on his lips.

"Love you," she said. Still naked, she padded out to the bathroom to shower.

Oliver waited until the bathroom door closed, then picked up the phone, dialling a number.

"Chloe? Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. We overslept. Are we still on? Okay, I'll see you soon."

XXXXX

Jane arrived at Jarod's office at the Luthorcorp building half an hour later. She grabbed a coffee on the way, sipping it as she rode in the elevator up to the fiftieth floor. Jarod looked up as soon as she entered.

"It's about goddamn time!"

Jane gulped. When Jarod swore like that she knew it was bad.

"Honey!" Parker said sharply. She never did like him cursing. Jane noticed her sister-in-law lounging on the sofa, but Jarod just ignored his wife.

"Have you any idea how much trouble you've caused?"

"What's this about Jarod?" Jane said, trying to calm the situation.

"Santelli is claiming all sorts of things from entrapment to blackmail."

"The guy's lost his cajones. Of course he'd claim those things."

"This isn't funny Jane," Jarod snapped.

"I'm not saying it is either Jarod. But come on, I practically castrated him, took away his balls in front of his men. He'll try anything to get out of it. Damn it, you know the evidence against him is solid."

"You shouldn't have gone in there. Now we have a major clean-up to do and it's all your fault. We were warned not to get so heavily involved."

"But you would have involved the Justice League, and this is something they don't do! You know that!" Jane glared at her brother. "Jarod, did you really expect me to just stand back and do nothing after what they did to Ollie? Or those kids?"

"How many times do I have to tell you you can't get personally involved. You can't let your personal feelings override your judgment!"

"Huh! Look who's talking! Weren't you the one who went out to help people to erase what The Centre did? Wasn't that all about your personal feelings?"

"Darling, she has a point!"

"Stay out of this Parker."

"No, I won't," Parker said, getting up and glaring at her husband. "Because you can yell at Jane all you want but you and I both know she did the right thing. Why don't you just tell her how you really feel about all this and stop hiding it?"

"Yeah, Jarod," Jane said, glaring once more at him.

Jarod was silent for a moment, looking at his wife, then back at Jane, and his anger seemed to melt.

"Jane, you could have been killed!"

Jane realised now why he was so upset. He'd been scared for her. And badly. She went to him and threw her arms around him.

"But I'm okay," she said softly. "Ollie was there to back me up the whole time. I didn't get hurt. I'm fine."

Jarod held her, the tension in his body slowly melting away as they hugged.

"I almost lost you once little sister," he said. "I didn't think I could handle it if you ..."

He'd already lost so much. Kyle, who had been shot by Parker's twin brother. Kyle had stepped in front of the bullet meant for Jarod, saving his brother's life. Then Ethan, the young man Jarod had thought was his brother, had also been shot protecting Jarod. And only a few months earlier, their mother had died of a heart attack. Heartbroken, Major Charles had followed shortly after.

Charles and Margaret had been forced to separate shortly after Emily's birth when The Centre had found them. Charles had felt it would be safer for them. Jarod had found out years ago that Major Charles had been in contact with Catherine Parker, and they had been working to try to get Jarod out of The Centre. After Catherine's death, sweepers had come after the family. They'd spent the next twenty five years fighting to find their way back to each other and their missing son. It was only when Jarod and Parker had finally left The Centre behind that they were able to get the family back together.

The discovery over a year ago that the couple had had another child taken from them by The Centre – one they had never known about, had devastated them. Major Charles had been furious to discover that The Centre had used their frozen embryos to breed another Pretender, resulting in Jane's birth. But when Jane had finally come to join the family, they had welcomed her with open arms.

It hadn't been an easy relationship at first. Jane had been prickly and difficult to deal with. Charles and Margaret hadn't understood Jane's lack of emotional response. It was only when Jane began to discover her own humanity that she could finally learn to relate to her parents. Losing them had been devastating for all of them.

"You won't lose me," Jane whispered, trying to reassure him. "I'd never let it happen."

Jarod let her go and looked down at her, his eyes watery.

"You and Oliver could have ..."

"We planned it together. I trusted him to help me make it work and he did. You should have seen him Jarod. He was amazing! For all his doubts, I always knew he had it there inside him."

Jarod smiled then. He could see his sister was in love. She had complete faith in Oliver, complete trust, and it was the only evidence he needed to see how much she had changed. A year ago, she had preferred to work alone, trusting no one but herself to get the job done. He'd seen the way they worked together in Colombia from the footage. It had been obvious they had planned this together.

"You still shouldn't have done it," he admonished.

"Oh whatever!" Jane snorted, her tone teasing.

Jarod broke out in a smile even if he was now pretending he was still mad at his sister. He went back to his desk and sat down, picking up some papers as he did.

"Now let's see what we can do with this mess you've made," he said, a lot calmer now.

Jane sighed and sat down with him, giving her sister-in-law a grieved look. Parker just chuckled. "I think I'll go rustle up some coffee. It's going to be a long day."

XXXXX

Chloe sighed. They had been at this for two hours now and she had work to do. But Oliver was adamant he wanted to find the perfect ring for Jane and he still hadn't seen anything he liked. They were in probably the sixth jewellers and Chloe was tired. She looked at the engagement rings on display and saw a princess cut diamond which looked okay. It was one that she would like herself.

"What about this one?" she said.

The jeweller, who had been standing watching, nodded approvingly. "Oh yes, this is perfect. Two carats, no flaws, in a white gold setting. I'm sure your lady will love this."

Chloe had already patiently explained to the jeweller when they'd come in that the ring wasn't for her. It was only the sixth time she'd explained herself and as much as Chloe loved Oliver as a friend, this was getting too much.

Oliver looked at it and Chloe could see immediately from his expression that he didn't like it.

"No, it's not her," he said, shaking his head. "Jane would never go for something like that."

Chloe finally turned on him. "Well, you know, it's kind of hard to find what you want unless you tell me exactly what you think she would like."

"Maybe you should try Pretending," a voice said behind them.

Chloe turned and glared at Clark, who was standing holding hands with Lois.

"What are you doing here?"

Clark just grinned at them. He and Lois had been out shopping for things for the baby. He'd overheard Oliver's plans to find a ring with Chloe and had told Lois. They'd spotted Chloe in the store and decided to follow them in to see how the search was going.

Chloe scowled. "Pretending? You mean like, channelling Jane? That's her department."

"Oh come on, Chloe," Oliver spoke up. "Jane says you're pretty smart. Like you could do anything you set your mind to."

Chloe stared at him dubiously. "She said that?"

He looked at her. "Would I lie?"

She sighed. "Okay. Fine." She tried to put herself in Jane's head, thinking about what Jane would see and feel.

Oliver turned and looked at Lois and Clark. "Shopping for the baby?"

Lois nodded. "Just getting some stuff for the nursery." She looked tired. Clark turned to the jeweller and asked for a chair so Lois could take the weight off her feet. Lois smiled at her husband as he helped her sit down. "Thank you darling," she said.

"So how long do you have to go?" Oliver said, realising how much he'd missed while he'd been away making an ass of himself.

"Three months," Lois told him.

"It's a good thing the Kryptonian gestation is on the same par as human," Clark told him quietly. "I don't think Lois could handle it if it was longer."

"But everything's okay?" Oliver said, glancing at Chloe, who was still looking over rings and talking with the jeweller.

"Oh yeah, everything's fine. Jor-El scans her now and again and he'll let us know if there's any problem."

"Do you know what you're having yet?"

"No. We decided to wait until the baby's born," Lois said firmly. Clark nodded and Oliver could see from the look in his friend's eyes that it wasn't a mutual decision. But Clark was placating his wife. Things weren't all that rosy in the Kent-Lane household, it seemed.

Oliver thought over the last few months. He and Clark had had a huge argument over his drinking and his general behaviour and he had barely spoken to Clark since.

"Listen, man, I need to say something. I've been an ass, and I know it. And I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For everything."

"You know, when Jarod and Bruce told us you were in trouble in South America, I offered to go down and get you."

Oliver nodded. "Jane told me. But she was right, you know? If Superman appeared down there it would have caused a lot of problems. You can't be seen to be interfering in what is mostly a domestic matter."

"So you're saying ... what ... that Superman's job is only to help out in natural disasters?"

"No, I'm not saying that," Oliver told his friend. "It's just ... there was a lot more going on down there than just drug manufacturing. And Jarod was right to send Jane. I think we both needed it. Needed to get things out in the open. And it never would have happened otherwise."

Clark nodded. "He's a wise man, Jarod. And I'm not talking about his IQ."

"You really do love her, don't you?" Lois said, looking at Oliver.

He nodded. "More than anything. That's why I'm not making the same mistake again. I know it seems too soon, but I can't let her go this time, Lois."

"Well, if it helps, she feels the same way. In fact, she asked me last night if I thought it would be okay if she asked you to get married."

Oliver's brown eyes widened. "She said that?"

Lois nodded, her hazel eyes twinkling. "So you better hurry up and ask her."

Chloe, meanwhile, was trying to grab his attention. "Oliver!"

Oliver turned and looked. Chloe was holding a ring out, her green eyes shining. He grinned as he looked at the ring, then at her.

"It's perfect."


	17. Chapter 17

When Jane arrived back at the apartment, it was quiet.

"Ollie?" she said, putting her bag down before going looking for her boyfriend. Then she spotted the table laid with fine china and Oliver's most expensive bottle of wine resting in an ice bucket.

Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, she whirled around to find Oliver standing there in suit and tie.

"Have I missed something?" she asked. "What's the special occasion?"

"Pretty much you," he said. He moved to the table, pulling out her chair for her. Jane sat down, frowning at him. He was up to something. She just knew it. But he looked so serious, she knew it couldn't be bad.

He poured a glass of wine for each of them. Then he held up his glass.

"To new beginnings," he said, clinking the glass with hers. Jane smiled at him.

"Ollie, what's going on?"

Oliver just smiled gently. "Janie, I thought long and hard about how I was going to do this. I wanted to do something special to really show you how much you mean to me and that I'm very serious about us. But then I realised that you don't need grand gestures. That's not who you are."

He took something from his pocket and got up from his chair, going to kneel beside her. "Janie, I love you. I've been an idiot the last few months and I know now that the only time I was ever happy was with you. This last week made me see that. Marry me."

Jane looked down. He was holding a ring with an oval emerald flanked by two diamonds. Jane had done a little research into jewellery for a job and she saw that the emerald was at least one carat, while the diamonds were each over a half carat. It was such a simple ring, but so beautiful. He had chosen well, she thought. And he'd clearly thought a lot about what she liked. He knew she had simple tastes – she wasn't into flashiness.

He was still kneeling with the ring, waiting for an answer.

"Yes," she said softly.

He looked at her, his brown eyes full of hope. "Yes?"

Jane got up from her seat, making him get up from the floor. She put her arms around his neck. "Yes."

Then he laughed, picking her up and swinging her around in his arms, kissing her. Putting her down, he took the ring from its box and put it on her finger.

"You're never getting rid of me now, Janie," he told her.

"Oh, I think you might have that the wrong way around," she laughed. "'Cause you are stuck with me now."

He kissed her, putting all his emotion into the kiss, and Jane felt it. All his love, all his hopes, all his dreams.

"I love you," he said finally.

"I love you," she answered.

Jane looked at her boy ... no fiancé, she corrected herself.

"So tell me, is there dinner with this little show you decided to put on tonight."

"Yes, why?"

"Will it keep?" she said, running her finger down his chest. He shivered in anticipation.

"We'll make it keep," he said, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her upstairs. Jane laughed happily as he kissed her again.

Laying her down on the bed, Oliver stripped her slowly, taking time to enjoy every shiver, every whimper she made. He kissed her, then moved down her body, licking and sucking every part of her soft skin. Jane moaned as he licked the edges of her navel, exploring the contours, dipping his tongue inside. She wriggled beneath him as he kept going, licking the insides of her thighs and down to her toes.

"Ollie," she moaned, lifting her legs, bending them at the knees and moving them further apart.

Oliver quickly stripped his own clothes off and Jane reached for him, running her hands over his chest as he lay over her. Her dark eyes bore into his as she looked at him lovingly. He kissed her as he entered her and she wrapped herself around him, opening to his sweet invasion.

Laying together afterwards, sated, Jane carded her fingers through his spiky hair as he lay his head on her chest.

"Ollie."

"Hmm?"

"How did you know what ring to get?"

"I asked Chloe to help me," he admitted. "I knew out of everyone, she'd know what you liked best."

"Hmm, then I owe her big time because I love the ring."

Oliver lifted his head, his brown eyes dancing in amusement. "A little birdie told me that I needed to get a move on because you were going to ask me, apparently."

"Hmm, that little birdie wouldn't be married to a certain red and blue clad superhero, now would she?"

Ollie laughed. "That's the one."

Jane chuckled. "It's true. I would have. But I guess it doesn't matter, does it?"

"Just shows that you and I think a lot alike. And that's not a bad thing," he said, gently stroking her belly, his fingers getting dangerously lower.

"Mm, keep that up and we'll never eat any dinner," Jane said.

"Is that your way of telling me you're hungry?" Oliver asked.

"For which? Food or you? Because right now, I can't choose."

He sat up. "Why choose? You can have both," he said. He got up from the bed and put a hand out to her. Jane took the offered hand and let him pull her up. Laughing, they walked downstairs, still naked, where dinner was still waiting for them. It was still warm, Oliver's housekeeper having anticipated their needs by keeping it hot. Oliver sat down on the chair, pulling Jane into his lap.

It was one thing he loved about Jane. She had no issues about her body. It wasn't perfect. There were hundreds of tiny scars over her back, but she never showed any concern for them, and Oliver never felt the need to point them out. Jane was comfortable enough with herself to be naked with him.

XXXXX

"Smallville, are you done yet?"

"Not yet. Don't open your eyes yet."

"Honestly, Clark, how can someone as fast as you be as slow as molasses at the same time?"

"I just want to get this right honey. And I didn't want to use super speed." Clark put the finishing touches on the cradle and stood back. It was the cradle his father had made for the baby that had never been born. Martha had kept it all this time in the attic of the farmhouse. Instead of reminding Clark of the loss that he had often blamed himself for, the cradle gave him hope for his new family.

He went to the door and took Lois' hands, pulling her gently into the room.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now," he said.

Lois slowly opened her eyes and looked around the nursery. Clark had decorated it all himself, adding little murals to the walls. There were ducks and rabbits printed on the murals. He'd painted the walls in a cream, rather than the blue he usually favoured. It was tasteful and ...

"Oh Clark, it's beautiful." Lois' eyes shone as she took in everything he'd done. Clark stood behind her, his arms circling her belly. She leaned against him, sighing happily. He really had done an amazing job.

A voice called from downstairs. "Clark, Lois. Dinner."

"Coming Mom," Clark called. He took his wife by the hand and walked with her downstairs.

Martha smiled at them as they walked into the kitchen. She had helped them buy this house when they had found out Lois was pregnant. When Clark had left the farm for good, Martha had leased out the land, putting the money into a savings account for the future. The money had provided enough for a little deposit, along with the money Clark had saved every month. It had been a mutual decision to lease out the land. Both Martha and Clark had felt there was little point in leaving the land to become overgrown.

"So, Lois, how do you like the nursery?" Martha asked as she served the pot roast and vegetables. Clark protested but she shooed him out of the kitchen.

"It's beautiful Mom. Clark's done an incredible job." She smiled up at her husband as he pulled her chair out for her and helped her sit. "Thank you darling," she said. Clark lifted her hand and kissed it.

Martha watched the two of them. She knew it hadn't been easy for them lately. Lois had been on edge all the time because she was tired from the pregnancy and Clark had been torn between his duties as Superman and taking care of Lois. They were clearly making an effort, and Clark was being more attentive than usual.

Sitting at the table, Martha regarded her son and daughter-in-law. The two of them needed some serious help, which was why she had taken some time off from her senatorial duties.

"So how are things, really?" Martha asked.

"They're fine, Mom," Clark told her.

"Are they? Because even I've noticed there's been a little tension lately between you two."

"And we talked it out," he said.

"Honey, I know you think you have," she said as she watched Clark fill Lois' plate with food and hand it to her. Lois frowned at him slightly, then turned it into a smile when she saw her mother-in-law watching. "Sweetheart, it's never easy when it's a new marriage. And it's harder still when there's a baby on the way."

"We're fine."

Martha had heard differently from Jarod, who had helped provide some of the research for her last election campaign. She hadn't known about Jarod then, just that the Onyssius Foundation was interested in helping those who wanted to make a difference in the world, like she did. Now that she knew more, she realised that Jarod had chosen her because he had been interested in Clark, but not in a threatening sense.

Jarod had told her that Lois and Clark had been having difficulties early in Lois' pregnancy. Finding out Lois was pregnant only a few months into the marriage had strained things and the relationship was certainly missing the usual banter. Lois rarely called him 'Smallville', a clear sign that it was not all rosy.

"Honey, you know, when your Dad and I first got married, it was a huge adjustment. Especially for me. Coming from the city, I didn't know an awful lot about farming and I made a lot of mistakes. Your father tried, but there were times when his temper got the best of him. He spent a lot of those early months out working and avoiding talking about things."

"It's different with us," Clark protested. Martha noticed that Lois had remained curiously silent. She continued as if Clark hadn't spoken.

"I remember we had a huge fight about two months after I came to live with him. He accused me of hating Smallville, and acting like it was beneath me. And that wasn't true at all. But your father had blinders on when it came to Smallville. It was his life. Even if he did try to run away from it, he made his choice to stay and he loved the town. But he thought that because I came from the city, I couldn't possibly feel the same way about Smallville that he did."

"But he was wrong, wasn't he?" Lois said finally, knife and fork in her hands.

"Well, not at first. It did take me a long time to adjust, but I did grow to love Smallville as much as he did. Just as it took me a long time to adjust to life in Washington. I confess there were a lot of nights when I missed Jonathan terribly and I would lay awake listening to the sounds outside. And there were many moments when I wondered if I'd made a huge mistake."

"Mom, we get it. And I guess you're right. It's been a pretty big adjustment for us both. We're trying, really we are." Clark took Lois' hand. "I know I've been pretty tough to live with the last few months. Being Superman, and everything. But Lois knows how I feel. At least, I hope she does."

Lois just smiled at him and nodded.

"And Jarod gave me a pretty good talking to. He reminded me how hard it is for Lois, being pregnant, especially because the baby's well, only half-human."

Martha smiled, reassured. "Jarod is a good man."

Lois nodded. "He's certainly changed our lives." She looked at Martha. "Did you know Ollie was back? Jane went down to South America. And they're getting married."

"Honey, we don't know that yet."

"Oh, I don't know Smallville. The way those two were last night, it's pretty much a done deal."

Martha raised an eyebrow. "Well, that was fast."

"Not really Mom," Lois said. "They have known each other for over a year."

"But they did break up," Clark reminded her.

"We both know Ollie's been hung up on her ever since. Or did you never notice that the women he dated looked a lot like Jane."

Clark sighed in resignation.

"Okay, Lois, when you're right, you're right."

"I'm always right," she said loftily.

Clark snorted. Lois mock glared at him. "What was that, Smallville?"

"Uh, nothing honey." She just continued to glare at him, daring him to say something else. Clark bent his head, pretending to concentrate on his dinner, but Lois caught the smirk on his face and chuckled softly.

Later that night, Lois had showered and was preparing for bed when Clark came in. She glanced at him and pulled back the covers, sitting on the bed as she rubbed moisturiser on her skin. She felt the bed dip as he climbed in the bed behind her. Lois sighed softly as he began to massage her shoulders.

"God, that feels so good!"

Clark continued to massage her shoulders, then her back, pulling the neck of her nightgown open and planting kisses along her neckline. Lois moaned softly. It had been a while since they'd made love. She'd always been too tired.

Clark's hand moved to cup her breast and she leaned back into him with a sigh, turning her head so he could kiss her.

"Make love to me," she whispered.

"I thought that's what I was doing," he chuckled back.

"Smart aleck."

Clark pulled her close, nuzzling her neck. Somehow, he'd shifted so that he was sitting with his chest at her back. Lois could feel his erection pressed against her and she groaned.

Clark rolled her over onto her back, looking deep into her eyes. He kissed her, stripping her gently, reaching around her belly to pull her gently closer. They hadn't made love this way for a while, but he sensed that she needed this. Stripping off his pyjama pants, Clark stroked her sex. Lois moaned, thumping her head on the pillow, eyes closed as she gave in to the rising need within her. Slowly and gently, Clark began massaging all over her body, feeling the tension in her melt away.

"Please," Lois moaned. Clark knew when she began begging that he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. If she only knew how much he loved her. Swollen belly and all. She was incredible when she was like this. Open and waiting for him.

Careful not to put his weight on her, Clark knelt on the bed, using a pillow underneath her to lift her hips up to a better angle. Lois opened her eyes and looked up at him with complete trust as he entered her. He continued watching her for any sign of discomfort, more focused on her needs rather than his own. Lois just urged him on, lifting her hips to encourage him to thrust deeper. As he felt the first signs of her orgasm, she threw her head back and cried out in pure pleasure. It was enough to send him over the edge as he spilled into her.

Laying beside her, Clark stroked her gently.

"I love you," he said softly.

Lois rolled over and snuggled against him. "Love you too," she said, taking his hand in hers, curling her fingers in between his. Then she lowered their joined hands to her belly. They stayed that way for a while. Clark watched the rise and fall of her belly, seeing it bulge slightly when the baby moved inside her.

He still couldn't quite get over the miracle of the life growing inside his wife. Seeing it change every day, watching it move. It fascinated him. For someone who thought he would never be able to have children, it really was a miracle, he thought.

Lois was watching him, her hazel eyes twinkling. She knew what he was thinking. She always did.

"I sometimes wonder what I did to deserve this," he said finally. "To deserve you. And the baby."

Lois smiled. "It's not about what you did. It's who you are," she told him. "You're amazing."

"No, that's you. I don't know how you put up with everything. All the times I have to run off and leave you in the middle of things."

"But that's why I love you. Because you don't just stand back like everyone else. You use your abilities to help people. And maybe I get upset at times because you have to leave, but it's like being married to a doctor, or a fireman, or something like that. There are times when they have to get up in the middle of the night and leave their family too. Because it's who they are and what they do. I can't ask you to change. I won't. And I know that the people of Metropolis think Superman belongs to them, but ..."

"Superman does belong to the city, but me, Clark Kent, I belong to Lois Lane-Kent."

She giggled. "Smallville, you say the sappiest things sometimes."

He dug lightly into her ribs and she giggled harder. "You were going to say it first," he protested, chuckling.

"Were not," she answered.

"Were too," he whispered, kissing her on the nose.

Lois sighed contentedly, nuzzling him. "You know, I'm glad Ollie and Jane are back together. They're so right for each other."

"You don't think it's too soon?"

"For what? Getting married? They love each other honey. Anyone can see that."

"Still, Ollie has a lot to work out."

"Yes, he does, but Jane told me she's going to help him."

"Jarod mentioned something about Sydney coming here. I think Ollie asked for him."

"Well, that's good isn't it? It means he really has changed. The old Oliver wouldn't even consider any sort of help."

Clark yawned and snuggled down further in the bed, pulling the bedclothes around them, tucking them securely around his wife.

"You're right about that," he said. "Oliver refused to believe he had a problem a few months ago."

He remembered that last fight he'd had with his friend. He'd tried to tell him to get help, but Oliver had refused point blank. Clark had thought at the time that Oliver was in denial over his issues, and the blonde had continued to party, drinking and flirting with every woman who looked his way. Clark had felt helpless, watching his friend waste his life away. Not even Superman can save someone who doesn't want to be saved.

He realised now that Jarod had been the wisest one of all by sending Jane down to Colombia. She was the only one who could have pulled Oliver back from the brink, and she'd succeeded.

Clark thought about Jane. Over the last year, she'd been focused on work. Sure, she had changed a lot in that time, learning more and more about humanity. But she hadn't taken a lot of time for herself, to really get out and enjoy life. Clark knew she had never really dealt with the pain of breaking up with Oliver a year ago. The shooting, and almost dying, had changed all that. He remembered visiting her in the hospital and she'd told him then she needed to rethink her life. She loved her job, but her life was empty.

_"__I don't know Clark. Something's missing, you know?" She looked out the window at the city scene. They'd had her moved to LA as soon as she was out of danger. Clark watched as her shoulders lifted and she sighed. "I miss him. I never thought I would, but I do."_

_Clark thought he knew who she was talking about, but he asked anyway._

_"__Who?"_

_She looked at him steadily. "Oliver. I still love him."_

_"__Jane, you know Oliver is ... "_

_"__I know," she sighed. "I mean, I don't know if we can ever get back together. He probably hates me. And he'd be right."_

_"__He doesn't hate you. He's just going through some stuff right now."_

_Jane just sighed and went back to looking out the window._

Clark sighed softly. Jane was so happy to be back with the man she loved. From the looks of things, Oliver was not only back on track, he was happy as well. And Clark couldn't begrudge him that. He and Jane were obviously good for each other.


	18. Chapter 18

"Hi Syd. Come on in."

Jane threw her arms around the older man's neck, giving him a hug. She had a lot of affection for the former Frenchman. He had saved her sanity. Oliver might have saved her soul, but she owed her sanity to this man.

For months, after Jarod had taken her from The Centre to live with his family in LA, Jane had worked with Sydney, trying to get some control over the overwhelming emotions she felt. Learning to deal with her slowly burgeoning humanity. It hadn't been easy, but Sydney had been patient. She knew now if it hadn't been for Syd, she would have ended up in an institution.

Oliver came down the stairs, sniffing audibly. Sydney looked at Jane, questioning.

"He's got a little cold," Jane told him. "Probably from the sudden climate change. He says he's fine, but you know how stubborn he can be."

"How are things, really?" Sydney asked, his sharp eyes not missing a thing. He'd already noticed the ring she was wearing.

"It's great. Really," she told him. "There's just a few issues that I think Ollie needs to work out, and that's why you're here."

She led the older man into the main room and invited him to sit down, then she went to Oliver and hugged him. They sat down on the sofa and Jane poured out coffee. Sydney sat back and sipped from his cup for a while, studying the young couple. He could see from the way Jane touched Oliver and took care of his needs that she really was in love. It appeared to be mutual from the way the blonde looked at her.

"So," he said, putting his cup down on the glass table. "Tell me, Oliver. What do you want to talk about?"

"Janie and I had a long talk in Colombia. About a lot of things. And, I don't know, I sometimes feel a little, uh ..." He stopped mid-sentence, appearing unsure how to go on. Jane stroked his arm.

"It's okay, darling. You can say anything to Syd. He can take it."

Oliver smiled gently down at her before looking back up at Sydney.

"I lost my parents when I was nine. They were flying over the Pacific when the plane crashed. I never knew what happened to them. At least, not then. I found out later that Lionel Luthor paid someone to sabotage the plane; he caused the crash."

Sydney nodded. "Tell me, what was your relationship like with your parents?"

"I loved them. They were my whole world. I mean, yeah, I had a nanny, and they were both busy people, but they took time out to be with me. My mom, she was beautiful, and loving."

_When he was a kid, his parents would often take him on special outings. It would be just the three of them. On the yacht, or out in Dad's Mercedes. Mom always smelled so good and Dad would throw him up in the air and he would laugh happily. That had all been destroyed when they had died._

"How did you feel when they died?"

"I was devastated," Oliver told the psychiatrist.

He'd been raised by his nanny then, but while the woman had tried, he'd grown up in a houseful of servants who really knew nothing about taking care of a nine year old orphan. When he'd been sent to boarding school, life had been extremely difficult. He'd been bullied a lot. Called a crybaby when one of the bullies had caught him crying in the bathroom. He'd learned then to toughen up, and it had given him an immense satisfaction when he'd turned the bullying on someone else. For four years, that someone else had been Lex Luthor.

"So, bullying someone like Lex made you feel powerful?"

Oliver nodded, feeling Jane's hand tighten on his. "I know it was wrong. God, I was such an idiot."

Sydney shook his head. "You learned some bad lessons at the hands of others. That is true. But tell me, when this boy, Duncan, I think was his name," and Oliver nodded at that. "When you saw Lex beating his only friend, how did that make you feel?"

"Kind of sick inside. I started to realise just what I'd become. And I felt pretty ashamed of myself."

"But instead of dealing with it in a positive way, you began drinking, I take it? And partying."

Oliver sighed and nodded.

"People deal with adversity in a lot of different ways, Oliver," Sydney told him. "Jarod ... well, he used to deal with it by taking the problem apart and analysing it."

"Is that part of what made him a good Pretender?" Oliver asked.

The older man nodded. "Jane, too, has that ability. Of course," he said, his eyes twinkling as he smiled gently at Jane. "She also tends to throw far too much of her energy into it, rather than actually dealing with what caused the problem in the first place. That is not the case now, n'est ce pas?"

"Mm but Syd, we're not here to talk about me, are we?"

Oliver looked at her fondly and she kissed him, squeezing his arm just a little. Oliver sniffed again, reminding Sydney that he was suffering from the cold.

"We can take a break if you like?" Sydney told him.

"No." Oliver shook his head. "I want to keep going."

The psychiatrist nodded. "So, how did Green Arrow come about?"

Oliver explained about taking the yacht to party and ending up being hijacked, then shipwrecked and left on the island. He told Sydney how he'd taught himself to hunt and fish for food using the few archery skills he'd learned from his father as a child. He related how he had wandered around the island and found the wreckage of his parents' plane, then their bodies.

Finding his parents had been a revelation. He'd started thinking about what his father would have thought of him, and it had started the process toward him creating Green Arrow.

He told Sydney about the thrill he got from using his new-found skills to break into people's homes and take what had been stolen from others.

"Was it really about the thrill?"

"No. I wanted to teach them a lesson."

"Did it work?" The Frenchman's eyes were amused. Oliver just laughed.

"Then I met Clark and he was so much more than I could ever be."

"You envied him his abilities."

"Only, I didn't see him stepping up. I thought he was wasting them."

"But you know differently now, of course."

"Well, now, he is using those abilities. And he's out there doing more than I ever could as Green Arrow."

"Darling, that's not true. It takes a lot of courage to do what you do. Without powers."

He smiled down at his fiancée. She wasn't just saying this because she loved him. Jane rarely said anything she didn't mean.

"So, now we're at ... what, two years ago? What happened?"

"Lex happened. God, I hate that guy."

"You tried to kill him. Several times, if I recall from what young Clark has told me."

"The first time I was under the influence of this healing drug."

"Which, from what I understand, brought out aggressiveness."

"Clark warned me about it when he saw I was getting out of control. And I didn't listen."

"Your friendship with Clark has been tested from time to time, I gather."

Oliver sighed. "We didn't see eye to eye over a few things. Clark doesn't believe in killing anyone. Not if there's another way."

"Yet you recognise that there are circumstances where it may be necessary. I remember when Jarod killed someone. He was devastated – but he knew it was necessary. He saved Broots' life," Sydney said, looking at Jane.

"I remember that story." She looked at Oliver. "God, Jarod's face – he still feels guilty about it."

"Yet I didn't feel any guilt when I thought I blew up Lex in that truck."

"Lex tried to kill you. You were angry. Darling, you're ruled by your emotions, but that's okay. It's just who you are."

"But honey, it doesn't make what I did right."

"No," she soothed. "But it does make it understandable." She rubbed his arm. "And don't forget, Tess was the one who told you about Lionel killing your parents. She was manipulating you, playing on your feelings about it."

He frowned. "I forgot about that. How is she, anyway?" he asked.

He remembered that Jane had forced Tess into a sort of witness protection after she'd discovered that Tess was skimming funds from Luthorcorp. She'd been forced to testify against Lex in exchange for the protection of the Foundation.

"She's now working for us. Under a different name of course. And she has no responsibilities. Jarod doesn't trust her enough to put her in charge of anything. She's part of a research team we have working on projects in Australia and New Zealand."

Jane didn't tell Oliver, but the research team was also watching for any activity from the old Centre satellite facility – the place where she had grown up. Jarod had recently learned that someone had been trying to get access to Centre files. For what purpose, they didn't know. The former Tess Mercer was there trying to track that information.

Jane was surprised that Tess had been so co-operative. Then again, she thought, Tess Mercer had been grateful she wasn't in jail for the things she had done. Oliver might feel guilt over what he had done to Lex, but Tess had no remorse for committing cold-blooded murder. In her own way, she had tried to get Clark to step up and be the hero she'd always hoped he'd be. She'd become just as much a manipulator as Lex had been.

"Jane's right. Maybe it was wrong, but it was understandable. Oliver, I sense that you feel things deeply. And someone who knows that can use it against you. The fact that 'Lex' turned out to be a clone is neither here nor there. And I suppose that is what young Clark failed to understand."

"Clark sees the world in black and white. At least, he used to. Until someone made him walk a mile in my shoes." Oliver smiled down at Jane and she grinned unrepentantly up at him.

"But you still had your issues, I believe. You both disagreed over the problem of Davis Bloome. Although, clearly, neither of you had the facts. I understand Jane and Jarod have both looked at the tests on Davis and both came to the conclusion that the cells were constantly mutating and adapting to the environment. So there was no feasible way to kill the creature, am I correct?"

Jane nodded.

"Yet, you blame yourself for the events that followed, when you could not have possibly predicted the outcome."

"Janie and I talked about that. I know now it wasn't just me. We all made mistakes that night. Me, Clark and Chloe. And Jimmy died because of them."

"Is that when you first began to think of giving up as Green Arrow?"

"Until Lex had Clark kidnapped." Oliver put an arm around Jane as he felt her tense up. He knew she still felt guilty over that and he gave her a light squeeze. But none of it had been her fault. She had been trained to obey and she had done what she was told. Because she hadn't known any better then.

"Tell me, Oliver, what were you feeling at that point?"

"That my friend needed me. That I couldn't just give up. Because he would never give up on me."

"Being there for your friend is all well and good, Oliver. But what about your needs? Did you become Green Arrow because people needed you or because you felt it was something you had to do? When someone makes a choice, they usually end up choosing the option that they believe will suit everyone, not themselves. And I think that's what you did. I'm not saying what you did was wrong. You chose to help Clark. But you forgot about your own needs, your own feelings, didn't you? You were no longer Green Arrow because it made you feel good; you were Green Arrow because you felt it was what your friends wanted. And sooner or later, when you stop paying attention to your own feelings, your own needs, you crash and burn."

Sydney looked at Jane then. "Jane has had her own issues with what happened next. And I have a feeling you two have come to realise the parts you both played in that, so I won't go over that again. But I'd like to know what you were feeling when Jane left."

"I was angry. Hurt. I didn't understand how she could have done what she did. And I felt foolish because I could have seen it. And then I started drinking. It was the only thing that dulled the pain."

"Because you loved her and thought she loved you."

"I knew there were problems. I guess I chose to ignore them."

"Because you thought love conquers all?"

"Is that naive?"

"In a sense. I think you both realise now that a relationship takes hard work. I know you've only been back together for a few weeks, but I can see that you've already been working hard at it. And I admire that. But we're getting off topic. Would you say you have a problem with alcohol?"

Oliver shrugged. "I think maybe I do. I guess it became a crutch."

"And the more you drank, the more you hated yourself for your weakness."

"Then I drank more to stop feeling and, I don't know, I just ..."

"Then one night you're drunk, walking the streets, and you come across a young girl being assaulted. You try to help ..."

"And I got my ass handed to me."

"She died and you blamed yourself for it."

"If I hadn't been drunk ..."

"Oliver, there were three of them. One was armed. Even sober, you would have never been able to fight them off, and a part of you knows that." Sydney looked at him with sympathy. "I read the police report. Jarod, by the way, tracked them down with Batman's help and those three young men are now doing some serious jail time."

"I ran away. She died, and I ran."

"No one blames you for that. It's how you dealt with it afterward that I'm concerned about. From what I can gather, there were at least three attempts to kill yourself. Only, you didn't choose any conventional method, did you? You instead went looking for trouble, hoping to provoke the kind of reaction that would create murderous intent. Had it not been for Superman in that last one, you would have succeeded."

Oliver shuddered now when he thought of how he had almost blown himself up.

"Why, Oliver?"

"I thought about my Dad, and what he would say if he could see me now. I knew he would be so ashamed of me. Of what I'd done. I could picture him, right in front of me, shaking his head."

"He would not have been happy. That is true. But not because of what you'd done. But because you refused to take any responsibility for it."

"I know. I get that now." He looked down at Jane. "She's helped me a lot with that."

Sydney chuckled. "Jane, have you been Pretending to be me?"

"Only a little," she told him cheekily. "I just passed on what I learned from the master."

"Flattery will get you nowhere miss," Sydney laughed.

Oliver put his head back against the sofa cushion. His cold was making him feel tired and worn out.

"You okay sweetie?" Jane asked, touching a hand to his forehead to make sure he wasn't feverish.

"Just tired."

"Maybe we should take a break," Jane suggested.

Sydney looked at the clock. They'd been talking for two hours. He nodded. Oliver was looking pale and wan, and clearly suffering from more than just a little cold.

Oliver excused himself. As he got up, Jane smiled at him.

"I'll heat up some soup for you, okay?" He nodded.

Sydney followed Jane out to the kitchen where she made more coffee and took some soup from the fridge, pouring it into a mug and putting it in the microwave to heat.

"Home made," she told Sydney. He smiled. She'd been learning cooking and obviously Oliver had become the test subject for her culinary experiments.

"How are things, really?"

"Well, he got sick a week after we got back. He went to work looking awful, but I couldn't talk him into staying home. Bruce ended up calling me to come and get him. He was not happy, I can tell you."

"So it's more than just a little cold." Sydney hid his amusement. Jarod and Jane were a lot alike. Whenever they wanted to avoid talking about something personal, they focused on something else. Something just as relevant, but still avoiding the issue.

"I kept him in bed for a couple of days. He was down with a fever for most of it, but he's getting better."

"And how are things personally?"

"I don't know how to describe it, Syd, but it almost feels like, I don't know, like I'm whole now. Knowing that he loves me, and that he's forgiven me. I guess I learned that it's not just about going out there and helping others. It's letting others in. And once I let him in, everything else just fell into place."

She smiled at Oliver as he came in and took the cup out of the microwave, handing it to him.

"Careful. It's hot," she said, unnecessarily. He said nothing, just kissed her cheek.

"You're lucky you didn't get sick as well," Sydney said, knowing her immune system would have been down after having been on antibiotics.

"Actually, I did end up with a little head cold, but it went away after a day in bed."

"Any excuse," Oliver grinned.

"Don't you know it, baby."

"So how are the wedding plans coming?"

"Good," Oliver nodded. He glanced at Jane. "In fact, we could be getting married a lot sooner than we thought."

"Sounds like you have a plan," Sydney hinted.

Jane just grinned up at her fiancé. "Well, let's just say it's meant to be a surprise, and leave it at that."

Sydney chuckled. Knowing these two, they had something up their sleeves. He followed them back out and made himself comfortable.

"Feel up to talking some more?" he asked Oliver.

"I guess. God, how did you do it for months on end?" he said, looking at Jane.

"Well, guess we had nothing better to do."

"It isn't always helpful to have such intensive therapy, though," Sydney reminded her. "I did sometimes wonder if we were trying to do too much in too short a time."

"You saved my sanity, Syd. If it wasn't for you, I don't know what would have happened to me."

"You give me far too much credit," he said softly. "You did a lot of the work yourself."

"Mm, but I made a lot of mistakes my first time out."

"But you learned from them, and that's what's important."

"Exactly," Oliver agreed, giving her a squeeze. She sent him a loving smile.

Sydney waited as Oliver finished the soup and got more comfortable.

"So, where were we?"

"Hmm, we were on the subject of my suicide attempts."

Sydney nodded. "After the bomb, what happened next?"

"Well, then Jarod stepped in and took away my funds. And I'm still mad about that," he said, but his tone was more teasing.

"Jarod had his reasons darling."

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "Anyway, I decided to check out an old friend and ..."

He then told the story of how he'd ended up in Colombia, and working for Santelli. Sydney listened, making the appropriate comments when necessary.

"Why did you go after Santelli, when you knew what he'd do?"

"Maybe a part of me still had a death wish. I don't know. I guess I still felt I needed to be punished for something. What, I don't know."

Sydney looked at Jane, who clearly thought she knew the answer. "Jane?"

"Well, we already talked about this. Ollie's problem is that he feels he's always had it easy. And that he doesn't deserve it. Even though his life has been far from easy."

"Is this true?"

"Yeah, well, I guess. I mean, yeah. It's like, all that money, and what have I done with it except waste my life."

"Yet, you actually went in to work for Santelli and you still tried to help people. I heard about the little boy you helped. You went without food just so others could get what they needed. To me, that doesn't sound like a man who has wasted his life. He has learned from the sufferings of others. And that, I believe is what Green Arrow is about. Your intentions might have been less than noble in the beginning, but Oliver, people change. They evolve. And I think this experience has changed you in a lot of ways. You will be a better man for it."

Sydney stretched. "I think we should leave things here and take this up tomorrow. You need your rest and there are still some issues I think we need to examine. And Jane, if the two of you don't mind, I would like to talk with Oliver alone tomorrow."

"If that's okay with him," Jane said.

Oliver looked at her, then nodded.

"Tomorrow then," Sydney said, politely refusing the offer of a bed in the apartment. He had chosen to stay at the penthouse at Luthorcorp, saying the two of them needed their privacy.


End file.
